The death of a git, the rise of a hero...

Minutes later with Hermione still drowsing in his arms, Snape decided he had better wake her. There was no point in postponing the plan and he'd made the final decision for them both.

He'd faintly considered killing himself in a flurry of panic before hand, but decided that it was not only impulsive but just plain stupid. If he died Voldemort would have no trouble finding Hermione and killing her off as well. Bad plan. They couldn't go into hiding, why that's why what Voldemort would need. One more reason to attack Hogwarts sooner than planned.

Perhaps there was another way. Perhaps instead of their already planned attack at the end of the summer, they could start now. The potion he'd been working on would be ready by at least mid March. Why, he and the rest of the Order could plan a surprise attack...

That was always the hope wasn't it? A surprise attack? Voldemort's easy death. How simple his wishes were. Potter wasn't even finished with his training with Lupin and Dumbledore. Putting him into the battle would only mean his death and in turn, the ruination of the wizarding world.

He'd gone through so many scenarios of what they could do that his temples were beginning to throb in agitation. They had no choice. They had to have a baby.

It was a hard decision to come to. How would she react? She might kill herself at the sound of it. Then there'd be real trouble. He'd be killed soon afterward for having such a weak wife. There was no way around it. How could he propose to this frail young woman in his embrace that they have a child to become a part of Voldemort's army?

It was their only choice. He could only pray that the war would be over before she gave birth to their child. Funnily enough under different circumstances this would have been cause for celebration. Having a child with someone he truly cared for. But all joy was sucked from him when he realized just how little he knew of her affection for him. For all he knew if the war ended and she had a child, the Ministry would dissolve the marriage and she and Potter would run off to raise the child themselves. His son or daughter raised as a Potter.

The mere thought angered him, and yet another mark was against Potter. How he loathed him even more for putting Hermione through such emotional trauma. All he cared was getting off with her no matter what the consequences. Well he wasn't going to have it. She was his wife, his. Not Potters. At this point in time she was his, and thas als all he had to cling to for hope.

His fingertip made its way across her closed eyes, watching as he made an invisible trail over her features, putting them to memory as he gazed down, fixated with her. She was fascinating to him. She didn't care what other people thought most of the time; she was brilliant and didn't hide it. Even the sound of her voice that had once grated his nerves was now different to him, soothing and comforting.

She sighed in her sleep, her sweet lips parting a moment as he himself smiled in contentment. She wasn't awake for the small flash of peace that settled on his features for when she did jolt awake it was to the sound of a mighty squawk from outside their door.

Snape grimaced in agitation, quickly placing the groggy Hermione onto the sofa next to him as he stood, moving to the door in wary confusion. He unwarded it and pulled out his wand as he opened the door slowly. If he didn't know better it sounded like-

Fawkes suddenly burst into the room like a gold and red firecracker. Snape jumped back in surprise and watched as it dashed around the flat, knocking over vases he'd collected and upsetting papers Hermione had set out before.

"Calm down." he hissed to the bird, angrily glaring at it as Hermione watched in idly fascination. It was a beautiful creature, so graceful looking, so breathtaking.

Fawkes, sensing the urgency in Snape's voice did indeed calm down. He floated a moment in the air before sweeping around Snape in a vivid tornado imitation and flying out the door.

"I think he wants us to follow him." Hermione said, pulling on her shoes and looking to the door. She stood, preparing to go after Fawkes when Snape looked back over to her, shaking his head brusquely.

"You stay here.,” he ordered sternly, putting on his best Professor's intimidation glower as he grasped his long cloak from the back of a nearby chair. "I'll follow him."

Hermione didn't answer as she watched him sailing out through the door, her dark eyes holding that of compassionate worry.

* * *

He made his way into the Headmaster's sleeping chambers via Fawkes. He looked to the disheveled bed and viewed a pale, limp figure collapsed on the bed beside it. He felt his heart leap into his throat.

He should have expected as much. Albus had been through so much these past few years, how was a man his age supposed to take it all? To absorb all the pain? He felt small tears stinging the back of his eyes at the thought that Albus could very possibly be dead.

The man had been like a father to him. Put up with all his darkness, loved him despite his past. And how had he repaid him? Not enough. Wearing stupid hats at Christmas and tolerating him on occasion wasn't half of what he deserved to give him.

"Go to Madame Pomfrey in the Infirmary." Snape told Fawkes who sat nearby, looking to his owner in panic. He hurriedly scribbled something down on a piece of paper. "Give her this. Hurry."

Fawkes grasped the note in his beak and rushed out, not waiting for any more instruction.

"Albus." Snape muttered lowly, his heart banging about in his ribcage as he came to the older man's side then. His face was paler than usual, his long beard trailing around him as his limbs lay sprawled. His head was resting on the ground and only half his face was showing from the moonlight filtering into the room. Severus was suddenly desperate to see his eyes opened, just one twinkle to flash in them. To comfort him.

Knowing that his reverie was only wasting time he brandished his wand and swishing it over the older man's frame it was only seconds until he was levitating in the air a few feet off the ground.

Snape stepped forward, brushing his hair behind his ear as he leaned on the chest of the Headmaster. He heard nothing. No heartbeat. His long fingers made their way to his neck, searching for a pulse. He held his breath, feeling nothing, as he pressed deeper. There. There it was. Slow but steady, there was his heartbeat.

He was trying to be calm about the whole thing, trying to be objective. He had to get Albus to the Infirmary but before he could move he felt a foreign feeling as small tears made their way down from his eyes and cascaded down his cheeks as he watched Albus' pale face.

"Professor?"

Snape started a moment in surprise and then quickly wiped his eyes, ashamed at being caught so vulnerable. He hadn't meant to cry. He felt his eyes narrowing and turned to Hermione standing at the doorway, seeing the sudden fear imprinted in her eyes and stance.

He strode over to her in five easy steps; he saw she was backing away slowly, knowing that her inquisitive nature had brought her too far and that it was too late.

"I told you to stay behind you foolish girl." Snape hissed in panic as he grasped her collar, her eyes boring into his own. He just didn't want Hermione to see either of them in the states they were in. She'd been through enough.

"I'm sorry." she said with glossy eyes. Her hands worked to loosen his grip he had on her cloak. "I didn't know. I'm so sorry. Is he going to be alright?"

Snape didn't answer but lowered his hand as he made his way back over to Albus. Casting an invisibility charm on Albus as well, he proceeded to levitate him down to the Infirmary, brushing past Hermione silently.

Madame Pomfrey was setting up the bed as Snape had requested in his note and wrung her hands as Snape levitated the now visible Albus into the bed. He watched as Pomfrey covered Albus in blankets, making small noises of fear and so on as she did so.

McGonagall snly nly appeared in the doorway, rushing over to Albus with tears in her eyes. Evidently she'd heard as well. Snape hung his head in despair as Pomfrey found his heartbeat, looking utterly perplexed.

"I think it would be best if you all left." Pomfrey said with a sorrowful glance at the two Professors. "I'd like to work alone if you don't mind."

Severus went to object when Minerva grasped his arm, slowly dragging him from the side of the bed where Albus lay motionless. He felt another lump forming in his throat.

"We understand Poppy." McGonagall said wisely, loosening her grip on Severus as he followed her out. He marched ahead of her, preparing to go back to his rooms and think of what to do next. He made his way from the Hospital Wing, his mind whirring e gle glided down the halls.

"Professor?"

He stopped suddenly, the voice all too familiar. Hermione stepped out from the shadows, her face tearstained and her mouth trembling in his eyes. "I'm sorry." she rushed on, ignoring the inscrutable look in his face. "I thought I could help."

A million jabs went through his head and he almost sneered in response. How could she have helped? What could she have ever done? But seeing the look of utter loss in her eyes was enough torture.

He gave her a stern look that bordered on bored before nodding his head slowly up and down. She paused, scanning his face with her eyes as she awaited a rude remark, a mockery of her concern. None came, and instead he suddenly glanced at her with hidden approval.

"I suppose you were,” he said lowly, looking to her closely a moment before motioning for her to follow him down the hall. She was surprised but nodded and followed; she came up to him, walking at his side in silence.

She shivered in the cold confines of the dungeon, half from her weakened state and half from fear of what was to come. Without a word she found herself under the warming confines of Snape's robe as he pulled her to him. His arm was arm around her and the cape around her shoulders added to the comfort.

She let her headrest lightly on the upper arm that supported her as they walked, the only sounds being the ones Hogwarts always made. She wondered idly if she could question what had happened to Albus, it seemed quite ominous for to sto suddenly collapse like that. But she knew Snape wasn't in the mood to discuss it.

She remembered the tears Snape had tried to hide from her. As she saw them slide down the pale face of her Professor and husband she felt her heart ache in longing for him. With those solitary tears he became so humane to her. But along with this new fascet of Snape came fear. He wasn't Professor Snape, protector of all. Dumbledore wasn't the king of Wizards and infallible. In her new eyes they were just older people trying to do their job well. They were only human.

They reached the flat in still silence, Hermione still clutched at his side. He relished this simple, quiet moment, one that he would store away for when he felt utter despair. He looked to the top of her head, saw her face against his arm and felt his resistance melting.

Shaking the stupid feeling he turned his attention to the door. After the warding and so forth had been implemented when they stepped inside Hermione made her way to the bedroom with Snape. They still didn't speak.

Hermione half considered asking Snape if she could sleep in his bed that night, wanting the comfort his embrace had unknowingly provided before. But deciding it was highly inappropriate and would only get him more defensive she bit her tongue. He was being so patient with her now that it seemed stupid to get him angry and tense again.

Trying to remain strong was becoming hard with his arm wrapped so protectively around her. She wanted nothing more than to bury her face in his chest and sob as he held her. But she didn't push her luck. Instead the only probable thing to do was to move away from his tight embrace.

She slowly extracted herself from his arm and out from the sheltering confines of his cloak at her shoulders. He felt at a loss as she gently pulled from him, her reluctance evident. She looked back to him before heading in to change.

"Thank you."

Snape felt his breath leave him as her eyes shone at him like that. It was a strange feeling to have such adoration in another's eyes exhibited because of him. He let his lips slide into their neutral stance and only nodded, knowing there was nothing else to say. She smiled softly and walked into the bedroom, shutting the door quietly behind her.

He knew right then, he couldn't tell her.

* * *

Albus lay in the hospital wing hours later, his eyes shut and his body barely moving. Poppy stood a few feet away writing something down on her clipboard before moving to the window to close the blinds. She muttered something to herself and checked on some other patients in the other rooms.

Albus foggily became aware of his surroundings by the sounds and smells. He was in the Infirmary, he had to be. The scent of lotions and medications overwhelmed him and the sound of Poppy scolding some students to get back into bed only affirmed this belief.

He was relieved then a moment, thinking he'd only had a fall of some sort. The details of the night before were a bit hazy. He decided he'd just tell Poppy he was fine and get back to the office.

With that thought in his mind he struggled to open his eyelids and found that he couldn't. This was strange. For a horrid moment he thought he was blind and called for help.

HELP!

That was strange. His lips didn't feel as if they were moving and no one was answering. What was happening? He struggled to lift his own hand, to find his wand. It didn't move. What the-

The sound of footsteps suddenly echoed around him and he felt for his heart beating in hope. No, it stayed in its usual slow movement. Suddenly light filtered into his gaze. He would have shirked from it but found he couldn't. Thwas was a horribly bright haze and then fuzzy figures became vividly clear.

Poppy was inches from him, shining a light into his eyes. She was making small clucking noises under her tongue and shaking her head. He could tell she was deeply upset. He noticed the suddenly large pores on the end of her nose so close to his face and couldn't help but be a little unsettled.

"Oh Albus." Poppy said with a shake of her head as she peered into his light eyes more intently. "I wish we knew what was the matter with you."

Listen Poppy! I'm stuck in my own bloody body! Can't you see my lips trying to move? Aren't my eyes doing anything? Can't you see I'm not near death?

Albus was growing frantic, he wanted to jolt up and have her see that he was alive, that he could hear everything going on. He saw Poppy shake her head once more before dropping his eyelids.

Then there was only darkness.

* * *

The next day Severus awoke with a jolt. He looked over to where Hermione slept and found she'd spelled her cot back the night before and gotten rid of the fireplace. She'd been asleep before Severus returned to the room last night and was up and out of the flat before he'd even woken up this morning.

"Oh Gods." he mumbled irritably, lying on his back and covering his face with his hands. He had to tell Hermione sooner or later. It was either that or she'd run into Malfoy in the halls some day, he'd interrogate her on the progress of their unborn child and Hermione would go into hysterics.

Hermione. Hermione. Hermione.

She'd never forgive him. He could almost see the fury in those eyes of hers, and it would be him that had caused it. She'd shoot the messenger gladly. She'd deduce that he'd been waiting to take her, to have her fully as a possession. But perhaps not. Perhaps she was as mature and brilliant as he always believed she was.

Perhaps Hermione would understand.

Hermione herself was in the Library; going over totesotes she had in her notebook. Her hands were aching from the various re-writes and her eyes were blurry from fatigue and emotional overload. She sighed deeply and scanned the parchment -her speech- once more.

Hello Professor,

Would you care to take a seat? What I have to say is of fairly great importance.

[*Pause and wait for him to sit, even though l prl probably claim he'd prefer to stand.*]

As these months have gone by with the two of us together, I have found myself growing increasingly close to you. I had no idea you were the emotional and compassionate man that you have shown yourself to be.

[*Wait for him to make a sneering face and sarcastic comment before continuing.*]

My days in your classes were spent constantly trying to please you with my knowledge, compulsively answering your questions in hopes of earning your respect when in truth it was over these past few months that I truly started to respect you.

[*Wait for him to roll his eyes and say; "Could you please just get to the point?"*]

When I first learned of our forced engagement, I was of course devastated at the thought that I was losing the life I wanted to lead. But, in my life together with you, you've done nothing but try to aid me in my life. From offering to let me use your books to comforting me when I was at my lowest point, you've been there. I don't know if this is all because you feel obligated, or that you too, have felt a bond between us.

[*Stand waiting a moment, and hope that he'll say something decent in return.*]

Professor, what I'm trying to say in plainest terms is that I like you. I even feel that I may be falling in love with you. I may be young and while we're quite different we are also quite alike. Wait, before you say anything in protest, or mock me or anything else, please know that I'm not saying these things in hopes of kinder treatment or anything of material gain. I'm saying this because I'm afraid that when the war is over, and our marriage can become annulled I won't want it to be. What I'm the most frightened of is that you don't feel anything for me in return and that these emotions stirring within me are one sided.

Professor, I'm telling you this because I need to let you know how I feel. I only hope you feel half as intensely in return. I love you Severus Snape, and I can only hope you care for me as well.

[*Wait uncomfortably for the inevitable speech describing that he's only being kind to me because of an obligation to Dumbledore and then wait for him to stalk from the room claiming he has other prior obligations. Don't let him see me cry.*]

Hermione took a deep sigh, folding the parchment into a small square and stuffed it into her cloak's pocket. She'd spent a lot of time working on it, slaving to make it right. She wasn't a poet though, she could only tell him straight out what she deduced of the feelings she was going through. Perhaps it would be to no avail but at least she wouldn't spend her time fooling herself.

Part of her held a glimmering hope that maybe; just maybe he'd feel something for her in return. Maybe he'd confess his growing adoration for her as well. She snorted lightly, knowing that the odds of Snape confessing his love were about as likely as Draco giving Harry a ride on his new broomstick. She stood breathlessly from her seat and made her way out of the Library with her heart pounding furiously.

She had to find Severus.

* * *

"Right through here Severus."

Albus woke from his eternal nap at the sounds of voices, his eyes wanting to be open. He knew it was Poppy and Severuf itf it wasn't their voices, it was their distinct scents. Poppy smelled of mint and medication, the pungent kind your eyes would water at the inhaling of. Severus was a cooling mix of herbs and soap, quite a nice scent in Albus' mind compared to the dusty, chalky scent of the Infirmary in general.

"Haswokewoken?"

Yes! Severus M'boy! You can save me!

"No. He's been comatose ever since you brought him in."

"Have you done any tests?"

"A few. We'll know more by the morning."

"Mmmm."

Severus? Can you hear me? Severus?

"Did you stop by just to see him?"

"It would appear that way wouldn't it?"

Use your umenumency boy! Listen!

"Do you want to see him?"

"How do you propose I do that?"

"Why not try talking to him? He won't answer of course, but it often stimulates the sensory nerves. For all we know, Albus could use it."

Oh for the love of...I can't even use my Occlumency? This is ridiculous...or maybe he's just so confused with things he'd shut off his mind. he frowned inwardly. OPEN YOUR MIND SEVERUS!

There was a tapping of boots before the emotionally tired Severus gave a weak nod to Poppy. "If you believe it will be of some use to him."
e noe nodded back to him, bringing up a chair and placing it by Albus' side. He sat in it slowly, knowing full well Poppy was still there. He bristled a moment, feeling her gaze on him before he whirled around and flashed her a meaningful look. She made a small look that meant she realized her faux pas and then made a hasty exit, closing the door on the private room.

Severus had decided on making a short stop to see Albus before seeking out Hermione and telling her of the plan. He'd half hoped that Albus was awake and resting a bit before heading back to his office. Obviously he wasn't and that made the decision of the baby rest on Severus' shoulders alone.

"I know that you can't hear me." Severus offered weakly, "This is quite a strange arrangement..." he cleared his throat, his quiet voice becoming even softer. "I know that you've suffered some heart attack of some sort, Headmaster. I know because you were clutching your chest when I reached you."

No Severus. I think I've been spelled! I think Voldemort-

"But I desperately wish you were awake to hear my quandary." he let out a heavy sigh and rubbed his temples in agitation. "I feel so utterly powerless."

Your quandary? YOUR quandary? I'm the one stuck in my ruddy body, Severus! What's your problem now then? Miss Granger leaving toothpaste on the counter? Reading too many of your private books?

"The Dark Lord demands a child."

If Albus had been awake at this point in time he would have been aghast. Odds are he would have done exactly what he was now. Nothing. He didn't even attempt to make and inward speech, knowing it would prove to be utterly useless. Severus was so overwrought with his current situation he was blocking any of the messages Albus was trying to send him.

"But you see.bus.bus...I." he heard Snape's voice growing dim then. "I care for her. I don't know when or how...she wormed her way under my skin. I can't get her out of my head. Her smell, her smile, her voice. I used to think her annoying, a brat even, but when she talks to me or...looks to me in this way she has..." he trailed off. "Good Lord this is humiliating talking to you like this."

Oh no Severus. Don't even say what you're thinking.

"I think the only choice is to go ahead with the order."

Hermione? A child! ARE YOU INSANE!?

"But I feel as if I'm betraying you without your consent."

I refuse Severus. I flat out refuse for you to even touch her in such a manner! Do you want to be sent to Azkaban? Do you think she'll agree to such a-

"But somehow I believe you'd deem this wisest route." Snape continued, tapping his fingers on the edge of his kneecaps. His cape swirled on the floor around him, pooling at his ankles.

You fool.

"But she trusts me Albus..." Snape continued with his head shaking to himself. Hermione's face flashed into his mind. Sweet Hermione. "How can I possibly tell her she needs to bear a child? She's still one herself for Merlin's sake."

Stop sulking, Severus! Try to hear me!

"She'll resent me forever for it. She'll hate me for ruining her life even more than she does now."

Oh please Severus. Don't do anything so stupid. Try to help me! Postpone making the child. Don't do it! Your lives will be ruined. Stop moping and try to see beyond! Can't you hear me? Listen!

"But we have to Albus." Snape said with a heavy heart, looking to the closed eyes of Dumbledore. He looked so peaceful, when inside he was fighting to break out and stop him. "I only wish you were here with some advice."

I AM HERE YOU DOLT! LISTEN!

He felt Snape staying by him a few more moments and he struggled to make a movement. To do anything to stop him.

Use your Occlumency you stupid boy! I'm not unconscious! he wanted to shout, his anger welling within him. But Snape, being as distraught as he was hadn't even time to dwell on that fact that Albus was trying to contact him. He had only one thing on his mind and it was Hermione "I "I have to go." Snape mumbled to himself, knowing full well Albus couldn't hear him. He moved rapidly from the bed, preparing to go back to the flat and to Hermione. "When this is out of the way I shall devote myself to brewing something that will speed you back to health."

Albus felt his hope dying as the gliding footsteps of Severus made their way from his side. He would have to try again when he was stronger. His stomach dropped -or he felt as if it did- when the sinking realization finally hit him. Severus and Hermione having a child.

For once in his long life, Albus Dumbledore didn't have an answer.

* * *

Severus sat on the sofa in their flat, looking to his hands and mentally going over the speech he had prepared for Hermione the moment she walked through the-

"Good afternoon Professor."

His head jerked up in surprise at her voice. He'd been so engrossed he hadn't even heard her come in. She looked pale, even a little shaken. She'd wanted to talk to him before classes, but decided it was a bad plan.

Instead she had waited until it was nightfall, until he was settled into a comfortable mode before she broke her news to him. At this moment she held the crumpled note in her hand, feeling it slip in her sweaty palm.

Oh God...how can I say it?

"Miss Granger." Snape said slowly, his voice was softer than usual, and that was a bad sign. He was also calling her 'Miss Granger'. He looked so worried, sitting there on the sofa with that look in his dark eyes.

"Would you please take a seat? There's something of importance I wished to speak to you about."

"Oh." Hermione said in surprise, her face lighting up a moment. Perhaps there was some hope after all. Perhaps he had the same thing dwelling on his mind. "There was actually something I wanted to talk to you about as well."

"Indeed?" Severus inquired politely, thinking she couldn't have anything as dire as what he needed to profess. He was momentarily intrigued but believed to be past such a tendency.

"I believe it would bedentdent if I were to go first."

"Oh, alright." Hermione said politely, looking at him from across the room on her chair. Sitting too close would have been to hard. She saw the strain go across his face.

"Miss Granger...the Dark Lord."

"Voldemort."

"Yes. Him." Severus moved to speak once more, his eyes at the ground as he did so. It was one of the few occasions that Hermione could remember him not meeting her gaze when professing something of such importance. He seemed to change his mind at that moment, opting for another strategy of attack.

"Miss Granger. What would be the worst thing in your life right now?"

"Pardon me, sir?"

"Listen. What would be, the worst thing you could possibly conceive happening to you at this point in your life?"

Hermione was puzzled at this sudden exclamation from him, wondering how it could possibly coincide with the topic at hand. Voldemort meant death though.

"Death I suppose."

"Mmm." Snape mused, nodding and meeting her eyes then, seeing the uncertainty in her eyes. "Death."

"Yes sir. Death."

"Miss Granger...in order to escape such a...horror...you'd do anything to avoid it, correct?"

"Would I do anything to avoid death? Of course I would." Hermione was puzzled, why was he asking such stupid questions?

"What wouldn't do you?"

"Professor, why are you-"

"Please just answer the question." he asked sternly, trying to be patient. Hermione set her face grim, trying to look contemplative but feeling as if she were writing out her own death sentence.

"I'd never turn against the ones I love-" he viewed as she blu at at that. "I'd never kill. I'd never...well, that's all I can think of for now."

"Would you sacrifice yourself or another if you felt it would be for the better?"

"I don't see how it could be."

"But you would."

"I don't know. I've never had to choose-"

"Miss Granger," Snape interrupted, holding up a hand to stop her comments. "We have had an order from the Dark Lord, demanding that you and I produce a child to raise and admit into the Dark Army."

"What?" Hermione said in a trembling voice. "He wants what?"

"A child." Snape answered flatly. "I have thought of every possible solution to terminating such a notion, but the Dark Lord is adamant. You are a most powerful witch Hermione, more than you know. With our combined backgrounds and talents, he believes we will breed most intelligent and powerful followers for his army. But he believes our relationship isn't strong enough. He sent Lucius to ensure we started on the pregnancy. They believe that you don't trust me enough to do such a thing. "

"But I do."

"You do?" Snape asked as he gazed at her, then broke it almost instantly, moving to stand and walking to the window. "No matter. He has come to his decision and will not be swayed."

"And if we refuse?"

"What do you think?" Snape answered bitterly, causing Hermione to wince at the coldness of the tone. Not knowing that he was doing it to toughen her, to build her up to face Voldemort. To face the decision. His anger was at anything but her.

"Couldn't we...couldn't we just adopt or-"

"You think they'd adopt a child out to an ex Deatheater and his child bride?" Snape scoffed, "I think not. The ministry would laugh in our faces. Besides...he would know. He has many spies."

"Of course." Hermione answered lowly, blushing at her stupid offers. He'd obviously thought of this at great length and come to the realization that there was no other choice. Would he do this if he didn't have to?

Snape waited with his back to her, tensing as he awaited for her to sob again, to go into hysterics. She'd blame him for ruining her life; she'd scream that he was a bastard and everything else. Gods he hated himself.

Instead there was a contemplative silence in which Hermione searched her heart and her head, both giving her the same answer. She knew that this had to be done. She would give a baby to man she loved but who she was fairly certain did not love herretureturn.

But she didn't want him dead. How could she go on knowing that it was her that had sparked his death? How would she ever rest, even after death, knowing it was she that caused the ruination of a brilliant mind, of a man who could offer the world so much?

"How do you feel about all of this?"

"Me?" Snape asked in confusion as she finally spoke. He whirled around from the window, peering at her confused. "What do you mean?"

"Well, you'll be the father of him or her."

Snape's stomach jumped at the words. He would be the father. He would be another living things link to the world. He would help to create a small human being that would live in Hermione's body for nine months before being raised by them and if the war lasted long enough, brought up as a DeathEater. How did he feel about it? He was beside himself.

"I am wary." He answered bluntly. "If the war ends and you are pregnant...then where do we go from there? Our marriage would be dissolved and you'd be pregnant."

"Yes." Hermione frowned. So, he was just as eager for the marriage to be dissolved. She was heartbroken.

Severus was looking to her face then, seeing her frown. He supposed she was scared of the dissolving marriage when she was pregnant. She was probably wondering if Potter would still have her. Severus shook his head lightly to himself. He'd have her in a heartbeat.

"And," He finally went on softly, "If the war didn't end as soon as planned and you were pregnant and we raised this child, it would have to become a Deatheater."

Hermione nodded, looking to him from the chair and letting one tear slip down her cheek before brushing it away. This was such a big decision. If she refused it meant death, if she agreed it meant so much more. She would be responsible for another life. She wasn't ready.

"It's not fair."

"I know."

He sounded so bitter then, so torn that Hermione was hurt. She imagined he was angered at the thought of being tied down to her and now a screaming brat entering the picture. She imagined he was so furious with her for getting him into this predicament. She knew he had to hate her.

"Am I correct in assuming we'll both be killed if this doesn't happen?"

"Eventually, yes."

There was a momof hof heavy silence; the calculating look in her eyes was back as she looked to the floor in contemplation. Their fates rested on her narrow shoulders that were currently slumped in weak confusion. Finally she looked up to him, her eyes losing their usual shine and he loathed himself for taking it from her.

"Then I suppose we don't have much of a choice."

Snape was surprised at her rapt decision. He had assumed she'd be more emotionally involved in the whole thing. He saw as she placed a hand on her stomach, wondering what it was going to be like having Snape's baby. In a way it was so special to have something so meaningful connecting them both, but it was also a life they were creating. A new life.

"You're absolutely certain of this?"

"Yes."

Snape nodded, his own heart pounding in his ears. He hadn't been ready for this. He didn't know what to do. She was being so utterly calm about this that it was eerie.

"When should we start?"

He was startled at her question at first, and in the end not. It was just like her to carefully proceed with the plan, even if it meant something like this. She was a Gryffindor through and through.

"I can give you a few moments to freshen up if you feel the need." Snape offered politely, motioning to the bedroom, his hands shaking at his sides. "You can call me when you're ready."

"Alright." Hermione said darkly, her head swimming. "I'd like a few minutes please."

"As you wish."

Hermione nodded, looking to Snape deeply a moment before moving to the door, her knees shaking. He wanted so much to hold her then, to tell her that he'd protect her. But why? So she could laugh at him like she had before? Scoff at his emotions? She'd think it was a trick.

"Wait," Snape said, wanting to confess to her right then that he'd never leave her. That if they had a baby he'd protect it, and her. But there was something deeper in her eyes and he was unsure of what it was. He imagined it was loathing directed at him.

"There was something you wished to talk to me about earlier?" he managed to say, his mind racing for a feasible topic.

Hermione looked to her hand a moment, her face reading of worry before her eyes drifted back up to his face. She shook her dark head lightly, looking utterly crestfallen.

"No sir."

* * *

The lights were out in the room when he walked in moments later, his heart pounding in his ears. He knew how to maneuver about in the room when not lit, it wasn't that which frightened him beyond all reason.

It was her.

Lying in the bed he himself had been the only party too. He wondered idly if she was naked, and then changed his mind. She'd probably just be wearing a nightdress. Easy access for their inevitable task at hand and something to keep the chill out as she climbed from his bed back to her own after.... Well, she wouldn't want to stay long anyway, he knew that much.

He stood at the doorframe, looking into the inky pool of blackness in the room. He heard her shuffling, the slight hitch to her breathing as she realized he was in the room. He knew she was terrified. She was a virgin, losing herself to him. He himself shifted from one foot to the next uneasily, trying to calm himself. He was the more experienced one here...why was it so bloody hard?

"Professor?"

The gentle coo of her voice was enough to set him off. In that one word she'd summed up exactly what the relationship was between the two of them. He was her Professor. Not Severus. Professor.

That thin line of detachment was drawn invisibly amongst them, ensuring a more polite and professional attitude in the ways of...what was it? Love making? No. It wouldn't be to her. Sex. That's what it was. Just sex.

Something to be done and over with until they'd created a small, human being within her. A small human that would bear some part of him when born. Something he wouldn't let himself grow attached to like he had her. Why add more pain?

"I'm here." he finally answered thickly, his normally languid voice choked for a moment. He was trembling he found, standing rooted to the spot where he had been a good five minutes. This was so unnatural.

Hermione Granger. In his bed and ready to go at it with him. Not the willing participant in the fantasies that had begun of late. Not the sweet gentle caress he imaged he would have bestowed before their joining. Nothing but penetration and repugnant pulling away on her part. He idly wondered if she'd allow him to hold her after, but deciding it was a stupid and weak fancy, ignored it.

He approached the side of the bed the way he assumed a blind man would. Slipping his fingers across the side of the bed when he came into contact with it, hoping to find out a location of where to rest. His hand suddenly slid over a small bump that recoiled from his touch. He decided that from where he assumed he was standing, it must have been her foot and sighed deeply at what was to come.

He stood at the side of the bed, his kneecaps brushing against them as he readied himself. He crawled into the bed swiftly, wearing only his newly bought boxer shorts. He'd decided against the nightshirt for fear it would make him look laughable. He'd wanted to be suave.

The thin covers settled atop him like a light silken wave. He could hear her breathing a few inches away, could feel the warmth of her body radiating even though she wasn't touching him. He was already harder than a rock and felt ashamed about it.

"Well." her small voice offered in an awkward tone. "I suppose we'd...we'd better-"

"Yes." Snape answered lowly, feeling her shiver as he spoke. She couldn't be cold could she? Gods he was suffocating. Taking a deep breath he moved over in the bed until their legs were touching. He felt her still as he did so and wince a bit as he grazed her warm thigh with his own.

"Are you alright?" he asked, wincing as he spoke.

What a stupid bloody thing to ask. Was she all right? No, of course she wasn't. She was in bed with him doing something between a man and a woman that should have been savored. Not taken in some sick orderly fashion on command.

"I'm fine."

There was an awkward pause before Snape tried again, his voice soft.

"Do you think we should..."

"Should I just?-"

"Well if I put my hand here."

"Oh."

"What's the matter?"

"Your hands...they're a bit cold."

"Oh."

There was a soft sound of hands being rubbed against one together, brought to Snape's mouth as he blew into them, trying to warm them. Hermione was already hot under the blankets and her nightgown. She was so very frightened at the thought of what to take place next, but interested. This was her first time. And as horrible a scenario it was, at least she was going through it with him.

When he deemed his hands sufficiently warmer, Snape found her kneecap again, placing his palm over it once more and relieved that she wasn't pulling away this time.

He didn't know why he'd begun with her kneecap. He supposed it was a body part that he didn't see too often, but one that wasn't too intimate. Well, not in his mind anyway. Hermione was struggling not to shake with every touch her placed upon her. She hoped he didn't think she was repulsed.

If anything she was very much attracted to him, and was wondering if he was repulsed with her. Sex was something she didn't know enough about. Of course she knew the basics. Stick in, move around a bit and then...what? Fireworks? How? She was so bloody tense it wasn't funny. She'd seen how big he was in the bath...would he even fit? She wondered if Snape would pull away after, thinking she was a prude or a horrible lover. That wasn't helping the situation muche whe was sweating, both from the heat and from nerves.

Deciding that she wasn't doing much in the ways of affection tentatively reached out to find his chest. Maybe she could try to work her way up to moving on top of him. Or would he go on top? He was a heavier than her...would she be able to breathe under him?

With a gritting look of determination, she reached a shaking hand under the blankets, preparing to place it on his stomach and hope he'd do something to help the whole thing along. In her venture to his stomach though she brushed across something rather large and protruding.

Oh God its his-

She heard the unmistakable sound of air passing through teeth as her hand brushed against his shaft and she was momentarily stunned to realize it had been rather prominently jutting out of his boxers. They hadn't even done anything yet. She was beyond embarrassed then and covered her face even though it was pitch black in the room.

"Oh God."

"What's the matter?"

"I just touched...you know."

"I'm well aware."

"Sorry."

"You're apologizing?"

"Yes well. You weren't expecting it...You see, I did it by accident."

"Oh." She thought he sounded a bit disappointed.

"I'm Sorry."

"Don't be. We knew it would come across eventually. It is...intercourse..." His voice hitched on the last word and to her would have been comical if it hadn't been her in the situation.

"I know, I suppose..." she trailed off with a heavy sigh.

It was horrible to fail at something like this. It was hard to get in the mood knowing that this was just an order to be carried out. Still, she'd get to experience this with him...and that meant a lot to her even if it didn't to him.

"Hermione?" he said lowly, his mouth going dry. "Would you rather if I just...took charge of things? You wouldn't really have to move much." he turned red at the sound of the words out loud. She wouldn't have to move much? He winced again.

"I suppose that would be best." She said into the darkness. This way it would be over and done with. If they were lucky she'd get pregnant the first time. "Well. We can start now."

"Indeed."

She gasped as his warm lips covered her own then, sending jolts of fire down her. She felt so very stupid as he pulled away whispering hoarsely; "I won't kiss you again." and tried to stop the blush creeping all along his body as he slid back to his side of the bed trying to calm himself.

"No." she said desperately, reaching for him in the darkness and finding only air. "I just wasn't expecting it."

"Alright."

There was an uneasy silence in which he fiy kny knew he had to speak.

"To save on further embarrassment...are you..." he cleared his throat, humiliated that being this close to her was still turning him on quite a great deal. "Are you, naked, Miss Granger?"

"W-well. No."

"Well, how 'not' naked are you?"

"I'm wearing knickers and a nightgown."

"Would you mind removing them?"

"Which?"

"Both, if you don't-" He stopped himself mid-sentence, knowing this was already hard enough for her. "Well, actually the nightgown may stay if you deem it necessary."

"Alright." Hermione muttered with a blush on her cheeks, it was becoming permanent. There was a movement on the bed next to him and the gentle rustle of clothing being littered on the ground. He was still hard as a rock, and now he knew she was almost ready.

He slid over to her on the mattress, doing a fairly impressive imitation of the symbol on the Slytherin crest. His movements were fluid, predatory and mystifying, not that she could see one. Knowing that she couldn't see him gave him more confidence. She wouldn't have to look at him when they coupled. This should give her an ease of mind. He frowned thinking as he slid into her that she'd think of Potter. The injustice was suffocating.

Soon his hand found her cheeks and over her lips. He felt the shallow breaths moving through her parted lips and he stroked her hair, trying to calm her. She slowed her breathing, inhaling his calming scent and stopping herself from saying something stupid.

"I'll be as gentle as I can." he promised gently at her ear, meaning every word as his hand wove in her sweet smelling hair. She melted inwardly at the words, feeling the meaning behind them. He was so complex; she neverw whw what he was thinking or feeling. It was another moment of soft stroking before he dipped down and kissed her now waiting lips.

She was responsive, kissing him back tentatively as he sucked at her mouth, swirling around her tongue, wanting to lull her into comfort before initiating the inevitable act dwelling on their minds.

His arms were around her in an instant, pulling her to him. He wondered if he should go slow for her, or fast. Faster would be less fulfilling on her part, but at least it would be over. But if he went slowly, perhaps she'd be more at ease, she wouldn't panic. It was a hard decision. His hand brushed a clothed breast, feeling its nipple harden instantly.

“Oh…” he heard her breathing hitch and he felt himself throbbing down below at the sound. His lips trembled as he kissed her, his hands teasing the nipple through the fabric as she moaned, enticing him even further. He prayed she wouldn’t tear from him.

Instead she moved into is hand, allowing her swelling breast to be caressed by his masterful hands. It was so intense in the dark, their bodies moving without knowing where, their lips missing each other’s on occasion. Their limbs and fingertips explored one another instead of sight. He was becoming intoxicated in her pureness, her sweetness as his kisses became deeper.

He let himself bring a shaking thigh of her's over his own until they were half on each other. Nothing too much. He never stopped the kisses, ones that sent the pit of her stomach deepening. She felt his hardness brushing against her on occasion just below, and she shivered. She was beyond frightened but so very intrigued.

As they kissed a slow hand of his made its way down from her breast and over her stomach, eventually deciding he'd go slowly at first and then speed up. She tensed a moment before the ripple of soft pleasure went through her and she shifted. That wasn't so bad. She relaxed, becoming lost in the kiss and the sensations before the hand slid down, over her abdomen in sweet circles before starting to slide rtlyrtly down below between their slowly molding bodies.

His eyes fell shut as his fingers made a trail downward to the heat, his head becoming dizzy with arousal. This was sweeter than any encounter he'd been through before. He wondered if she could feel him against her thigh even though he'd tried to shift in a way that she couldn't yet. He felt her sudden shaking against him and thinking it was to a bit strange since it was fairly early in the process, momentarily stopped.

"Hermione?"

"It's too much." Hermione said softly, the tears slipping down her cheeks in the darkness. She wanted to look at him, to see what he was thinking with that shrewd gaze he gave off every now and again. He wasn't frightened. He'd been ready to get it over with.

"I just...can't."

There was a soft sigh and then she felt him gently roll from her and onto his back on the mattress, their shoulders touching as they looked to the darkness above. She had stopped her crying, feeling that it would only fuel his anger at her weakness. She waited for the inevitable mocking of her 'so called Gryffindor bravery.' to pass through his lips.

"I know."

It wasn't an answer she'd been waiting for. She was momentarily stunned as the gently spoken words flitted between them. Severus Snape understood? How could he? How could he past that aloof and cold exterior know the very feeling she was experiencing? The revelation felt unreal as she went through it.

The thought of bringing another life into the world because of an order from pure evil seemed so decidedly wrong to her. She couldn't force herself to do it. It would have been different if she and Snape loved each other, if they wanted a child. But they were doing it as an order to a man she despised more than anyone.

Severus on the other hand was sure she'd turned him down. Subtly told him that she couldn't stand the thought of touching him when in reality she would have loved it. She had loved the feel of his skin against hers, she'd actually regretted leaving her nightgown on until the weight of their decision came full blast over her like a cold shower. A baby.

She still laid with her head cradled in the pillow, her heart jumping up and down as she turned to speak to him, to voice her own very opinions when his low, hypnotic voice icily met her ears.

"Well if we're not going to do this tonight, just go back to your own bed."

Hermione's face burned at his words, even though she couldn't be seen. She should have expected as much. Lulling into a false sense of security before snapping the jaws of distaste around her. She was ashamed that she'd thought he cared deeper for her than she'd let on. How foolish. How Gryffindor.

He felt her drawing from his side, moving to the other side of the bed to sit up as he bit his lower lip hard. The coppery taste filtered into his mouth as he lay still, hearing as she took a deep breath.

He'd lost his chance.

Instead of even trying, he'd been cruel and cold, humiliating her even further. He loathed himself as he heard her rising from the bed, making her way over to the small cot where she resided every night.

"Good night."

He wanted to cry out to her, to explain himself. But he'd lost his chance. He'd never tell her how he felt; he'd never know if she even managed, through all the hardships he'd put her through, to love him back.

He heard the soft sound of her breathing, fixating himself on his side so that he was facing her as she lay on the other side of the room. He couldn't tell her. Why put her through it all? Even if she did love him what would he have to offer her?

In truth, Hermione's love wasn't something Severus believed he deserved.