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

Hermione cried herself to sleep that night, not a large surprise. She had been crying herself to sleep a lot lately. She had just come from Snape's room and onto the couch in the sitting room. She didn't have to go to such extremes, but she was never comfortable sleeping in the same room as Snape, especially when she had failed at going through with their copulating.

Hermione still felt the sting from tonight though. Snape had been bitterly cruel to her, and she hadn't really been ready for it. She refused to let Snape see her crying, and she refused to let him have the satisfaction of actually sobbing loud enough for him to hear. So in turn she had begrudgingly taken her blanket and pillow, and set up a small makeshift bed on the sofa.

She looked disparagingly at the cot, feeling her eyes filling up with fresh tears. How could he do this to her time and time again? Just when she was sure that Snape was opening up and perhaps feeling something for her, he'd go and screw things up with that mouth of his.

She climbed into her small 'bed' for the night, looking to the dark ceiling in a mixture of fear as well as sadness. She felt utterly broken, lost and a failure for some reason. She had always prided herself on being level headed, and now when she was called on to use this talent she'd run for the hills.

It wasn't as if she didn't want Snape -God knew she had- it was the thought of just making a baby. Making one. Not conceiving one, not creating a child of their own. It was making one, as if Hermione and Snape were running some child-making factory.

Assemble your own child in five easy steps! Hermione mused darkly, her chin trembling unbeknownst to her. She tossed on the sofa, feeling the chill of the room. She longed to be back in bed with Snape, where she felt safe...until he went and ruined everything. He said he understood her dilemma, and then he berated her for it!

Now the tears came in torrents, slipping down her cheeks in big sloppy rivers. Then the hiccupping sobs arrived right on schedule. Sobs she tried to muffle with her hands, burying her face in her pillow. She couldn't let Snape know how badly he'd hurt her.

Snape himself lay in bed silently cursing his rudeness this evening. He could hear the poor thing outside the door in the sitting room, lying there all cold and shivery sobbing her little heart out, all because of him. All because of him. He had heard her shuffling moments before, making her way out the door, away from him.

Not that I blame her.

Her sobs lessened, and soon he was sure she was asleep. He tossed in his own bed, realizing how empty it felt without her presence. Bizarre...months ago he thought it was the most natural thing in the world to care for oneself only, and had indulged in such in abundance. But now, caring for Hermione, another person...it was extremely rewarding as it was extremely trying.

He could remember now, the softness of her lips on his. Could almost feel her body against his own now. Kissing her had been as gratifying as a thousand trick turning women in Knockturn Alley. Sad bad been so willing, so eager to be with him it had seemed. He wanted her so badly now that it pained him, but what was even worse was the sense of rejection.

Constantly he was saying or doing the wrong thing. Continually he was messing things up so badly she ran from him in tears. Time and time again he had built up a wall around him, refusing to let anyone in but her...she had slipped through the cracks somehow.

He yearned to go to her then. To bring her into his bed and sleep with her. To watch her silently sleeping frame, finding her precious even when softly snoring. He wanted to apologize, to confess he felt just as she did. But he didn't.

idn'idn't deserve her.

* * *

It was the next morning when Hermione felt a gentle nudge of her shoulder, prompting her to awaken. Hermione was on guard instantly, thinking that somehow she was in danger. She managed to wearily open one swollen eye to see Snape's own dark gaze, looking at her with silent inspection. She idly wondered if last night had been a dream.

No. She shook her head, clearing it. She remembered distinctly, last night was no dream. She sat up in time, bringing her blanket up with her. She snly nly noted that she was covered in blankets...she could only assume Snape had placed them on her last night.

She knew that this may have been a sweet sentiment, but she was still hurt by his actions and words. She supposed that now she was going to get a tongue lashing for leaving the room last night without his permission. She wouldn't put that macho misogynistic behavior past him.

"Yes?" she finally said croakily, clearing her throat as he stared down at her. He tapped his steepled fingers on the back top of the sofa, not speaking as he looked to her with those beetle black eyes of his. He was already dressed and ready for the day, although he looked rather tired in his face and somewhere inside Hermione, this tugged at her.

"I want to say something and I don't wish to be interrupted." Snape suddenly said sharply, not giving the now concerned Hermione a chance to speak. His voice filled the silent room and Hermione tried to look uninterested.

"My behavior last night was inexcusable." Snape started, and seeing that Hermione was about to speak went on in a flurry. Living with Hermione these past few months had proved if he wanted to say something, he had to finish fast unless he wanted to hear her views on everything he said before he was finished. "I don't know what came over me, I can only assume it was the situation as well as what I interpreted to be...rejection."

His voice went low at the last word, and in that he detached his gaze from hers. He continued to speak, his voice once more that of a delicate, papery breeze. She had to constantly lean in if she wished to hear what he was saying half the time.

"All I ask is your forgiveness for my behavior, and I hope we can put last night's.... problem, behind us."

Hermione fell silent, knowing that this meant a lot coming from him. Professor Snape didn't just apologize to anyone. For a while she had been certain that if Snape were wrong, he would merely pass it off and dismiss the idea of apologizing with a sneer. But now here he was, sitting on the end of the sofa, looking at her now with question in his eyes.

"I forgive you." She said softly, not wanting to keep him in any more suspense. She saw, as he stood, still staring at her with question in his eyes. She squirmed under his gaze, wondering if she really looked horrible this early in the morning.

"You had better get ready." He said lightly, looking to his pocket watch that he'd pulled from his robes. "You have classes in less than an hour."

With that he snapped the lid to the watch up, and giving her a curt nod removed himself from her sight. She watched as he stalked off out the front door, wondering what on earth went through his mind sometimes.

She stood and ambled to the bathroom, giving herself a thorough scrubbing before heading into Snape's room. There she pulled on her clothes, the usual school uniform. She took a small glance at herself in the mirror and pulled a face, for she looked exhausted. She noticed that Snape hadn't made his bed this morning, and while this struck her as odd it didn't deter her from making her way onto it.

"Oh...Severus..."

She moved to his side of the bed -or rather, the side he slept on when she was in the bed with him- and slowly lowered her face to his pillow. She inhaled his familiar herb like scent, of the earth and of inviting spices. A smell that was uniquely his own. Tears sprung to the corners of her eyes then as she felt to the side of the bed, clinging onto the pillow for dear life. Why was this all so hard?

"No wonder everyone says love is painful." She muttered to herself, brushing the tears from her face and still hugging the pillow to her. "I never believed them before.... love is nothing but pain."

After moments of rocking Snape's pillow in her arms as if it were him, Hermione stood shakily and placed it back on his side of the bed. Slowly her hands left the comforting feel of the item and she was again making her way to the hallway and out the door.

At the entrance of the flat though she stopped, her lips pursed in thought. She suddenly knew what she was going to do this morning, permission or not. She turned, making her way back down the stretching hallway.

She stepped back into Snape's room, retrieving a book from her nightstand by her cot. She knocked over a few items in her haste, but decided she could have a clean up later. She wasn't going to classes today, there was one man she needed to see right now.

What she didn't see in her hurry, as the various items moved about in her retrieval of her book, was a small piece of parchment, -her confession of love for Severus she'd written- slowly spiraling to the ground...

* * *

Snape looked around the Great Hall at lunch, expecting to find Hermione there. He scanned her usual seat, seeing that Potter and Weasley were involved in some spirited speech. About something utterly inane for certain.

The rest of the Hall seemed down, most undoubtedly because of Albus' incident. While there had been so specifications to students, one could only assume that Hogwarts was vulnerable under attack. There was an air of tension around them always, and this was no way to live.

Where is she?

His dark eyes scanned the room, taking in every student and feature. He ate his soup in silence, ignoring Sprout's infernal chatter about some new sort of bug spray. As if he could ever be interested. Slowly he buttered his bread, still searching for Hermione. This wasn’t like her at all.

Perhaps she's in the Library. the reasonable part offered, trying to keep Snape worry free.

But the cynical part was screaming; Maybe she's run away. Maybe you hurt her too badly.

But she said she forgave me this morning.

the voice was taunting, She pulled a fast one on you. She's probably halfway home to London now.

Soon the lunch hour was almost past, and Snape was beyond a state of panic. He knew that it was to no avail to get everyone worried, but he was. He was sick to death in fear that his Hermione had done something stupid.

What if she was hurt? What if she'd been captured?...all because of him and his stubbornness.

I should have told her how I felt. he thought listlessly, looking to his soup dejectedly. How could I have been so utterly cruel to her?

Suddenly he viewed Potter and Weasley standing, making their way out the doors of the Great Hall. Dabbing his mouth with a napkin, Snape stood and glided out through the very doors a few seconds after the boys.

"Potter, Weasley." Snape snapped, watching as the two boys stiffened, finally turning to face him in stony silence. When the both of them were facing Snape he chose to speak, quietly to avoid alarm.

"Well, where is she?"

Harry and Ron exchanged looks of confusion before Ron offered an oblique: "Who?"

"You know exactly who I am referring to." Snape hissed angrily, wishing he could assign them both detention for being complete dunderheads. But with Albus out of commission, and the new tasks he'd undertaken for Minerva now covering Albus' position, he hadn't time for such idle threats.

Now, here they were wasting his time. Why, Hermione could be in Voldemort's grasp right now! Anxiety washed over him, setting him even more on edge with disdain for the two idiots in front of him.

"If you mean Hermione," Harry said angrily, his green eyes flashing at the contemptible man. "We haven't seen her all morning. We thought she was sick in bed."

"Nonsense." Snape insisted, looking to Harry and Ron in displeasure. "She was supposed to be attending classes. I saw her this morning."

Harry suddenly looked beyond worried, glancing at Ron before looking back to Snape. "What do you mean?"

"Nothing." Snape snapped irritably, refusing to share information with an annoying little brat like Potter.

Whipping around, robes billowing behind him, Snape marched off leaving Ron and Harry pondering what the altercation had entailed. Ron looked to Harry in question, his light eyes filled with compassionate worry.

"Where on earth can she be?"

* * *

"Hello Headmaster." came a cheerful voice that sounded near the edge of his bed. He recognized it as Hermione, and while her internally wanted to smile, he was prohibited from doing so. Still in his mind he relayed to her as if they were talking in a normal conversation, and as if she could hear him.



"I've come to read to you sir." Hermione said cheerfully, looking to the aged Headmaster with a sob lodged in her throat, making it hard to speak properly. He looked so frail in the cot, so pale and forlorn. It made her heart sink, and she wanted nothing more for than him to wake up. She needed his council so badly.

She had waited outside his door for a good three hours. Madame Pomfrey had claimed that Albus needed his sleep -although Hermione thought this was pointless- and that he couldn't have any visitors until noon-ish. Hermione, not feeling up to attending classes had agreed and stayed in the same chair outside his room for those hours, reading the book she'd brought.

Now she stood at the side of his bed, looking down at Dumbledore, a pang of sympathy going through her. She noticed a chair at the side of his bed, and lowering her trademark book bag, settled herself into it. She pulled the large book onto her lap and opened to the first page.

She'd been reading a few moments, much to Albus' thanks for he hadn't receivedthinthing but idle overheard gossip due to his condition. Poppy seemed filled to the brim with stories of intrigue that went about in the castle and Albus was shocked to hear a few.

Hermione then stopped, her voice cracking on the latter sentence. Albus was worried, wanting to see what was worrying the girl. He assumed it must be Severus. Why else would she be? She'd married the renowned worst bachelor in the history of time.

"Headmaster, I know you can't hear me." Hermione started, not knowing the irony of her words. "But, I had to see you....I know that you can't help me, but just being here is comforting." She took a deep breath and continued on shallowly.

"You've always been like a sort of father figure to me sir, and I mean that. I know you're like that for Professor Snape as well...he's always admired you."

Well well well... Albus thought bemused, Severus admiring me?

"And...well...Voldemort wants us to have a child."

I know.

"And I just don't know what to do. I mean, I care for Professor Snape...much deeper than he realizes...

What? This is completely ludicrous! You and Severus both care for each other...why not just tell him?

The humor of the situation was not lost on Albus, for these two seemed perfectly matched. From their wit and logic, now to the turmoil of emotions going through them both. The stubborn dolts.

"And under difference circumstances, I would....I would want to have a child with him, Headmaster. But I know that he doesn't feel the same way...about anything. He knows that this is all just an obligation...he certainly doesn't care for me."

But he does.

"But I suppose you'd tell me that I need to do what is best for the Order."

That doesn't mean sacrificing your entire life! No! No child!

"And as one of Harry's closest friends, I understand what that entails."

Don't say it Miss Granger....just don't.

"I shall do what is best for the Order."

Oh Merlin...what am I going to do? Albus felt all resolve leaving him. He was utterly helpless and everything was going to ruins because of his lack of presence in Hogwarts. Professors and students, babies and lying...this was far too much.

He heard Hermione's soft whimpering then, obviously holding back tears that were evident in her sob-engulfed voice. "Thank you for listening. I know this may be stupid, but I feel as if you can heard me."

Always, Miss Granger.

"I swear to you, Headmaster." Hermione said resolutely, grasping his limp hand in her own. "Professor Snape and I will do everything in our power to save you. When we find out what's wrong with you, we'll stop at nothing to remedy it."

Oh Hermione...sweet girl. There is dark magic afoot here...I don't want you involved with it. Sweet Merlin....What am I going to do? Albus internally wailed, wanting to open his eyes. He idly wondered if he could blink now...perhaps he could blink in Morse code! He tried in vain to fluthis his eyes, finding that it was impossible.

He heard Hermione sighing deeply, scraping her chair back to stand. He internally sulked, knowing that they were going to be of no help to him. He suddenly felt a small kiss pressed to his cheek and he was suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to cry. How was he supposed to be some grand leader when he was paralyzed all over?

"Good afternoon Headmaster."

He heard Hermione leaving, shutting the door behind her firmly. Then there were only the sounds of breathing, his own. Moments passed and all that was heard were the sounds of muffled voices outside the Infirmary.

What am I going to do? He thought darkly to himself, not expecting an answer. When his answer did greet him it was cold and unfeeling. A very familiar and very icy voice, laced with the promise of destruction.

You're not going to do anything Albus the voice promised, sounding almost bemused at the situation. We're playing by my rules now...

* * *

Hermione made her way back to the flat with a drowning sigh, her mind still as confused as her heart. Slowly she unwarded and unlocked the door to the flat, making her way inside it's dark recesses silently. She knew she would be alone b-

"Miss Granger?"

Hermione let out a worried yelp, leaping back into the now closed door behind her. She heard Snape muttering a soft spell and the room was suddenly lit dimly. Hermione knew who it was in the hall, but hadn't the strength to look to him.

Snape made his way down the hallway, pausing every few moments to look at her. When they were a few feet apart Snape suddenly cleared his throat in an authoritative way. Hermione then looked to his feet, for that was all she could muster.

"Why weren't you in classes today?"

"I didn't want to go." Hermione said testily, not in the mood to get yelled at.

"And you decided just not to tell anyone?" Snape offered lightly, the relief washing over him. She was safe, she was here with him. She hadn't gone home, she didn't hate him...well...the verdict was still out on that one.

"No."

"Miss Granger," Snape said softly, his voice just slightly above a whisper, his hands behind his back. "I am not going to reprimand you. You're my wife, not my slave. You may come and go as you wish, I only ask that you inform me of your plans prior to your exit."

Hermione nodded, knowing full well that was reasonable, especially now when Voldemort's terror seemed far too close to be ignored. She rubbed her arms slightly, still feeling the chill from the Infirmary. "Yes sir."

Snape nodded, his hands still behind his back. Hermione couldn't deny the attraction to him, especially when he was reasonable like this. He was kind as well as humorous, and she ardently wished he could be like this more often.

Suddenly she viewed Snape squirming a bit, moving back and forth from foot to foot. Slowly her eyes made their way up his legs, past his torso and to his face. His eyes were glittery, like two flinty pieces of glossed up coal.

"Miss Granger," Snape began again, his breath leaving him. "There is...one other matter."

Hermione winced, knowing that he was going to mention them sleeping together again. Probably suggest they do it tonight. She prepared herself for the worst, not knowing that even that wouldn't protect her.

"Miss Granger...what's this?" Snape asked softly, holding Hermione's letter in his hand shakily. Hermione's eyes widened as she realized what he was holding in his hand, looking to her silently.

"Where did you find that?"

"On the floor near my bed." Snape said perplexed, certain that she meant for him to find it. "It had my name on it."

Hermione felt her stomach flipping painfully, her body growing cold with realization. In that piece of parchment were the words of love she had long wished to vocalize, but had never found the chance.

"You read i?" she finally managed to choke out, wishing she was more artate ate in moments like this. Snape could only nod, looking to her with silent indecision. Slowly her dark eyes made their way from the letter he was holding, to the troubled eyes of her Professor and husband.

Snape looked utterly torn, as if he wanted to believe the words on parchment but couldn't. He was also rather hurt that she hadn't meant for him to find it. He acquired his normally severe and most professional tone, as if the subject of found love letters was one he encountered every day.

"Is this some sort of joke, Miss Granger?"

Hermione shook her head, indicating that the words on the paper were real and true and straight from her heart. He hadn't been expecting this, and now was more unsettled than before. For once, he was at a complete loss for words and all he could manage was a soft;

"I didn't know."

Suddenly Hermione wanted to leave, to just forget everything and just take a break from everything. No babies, no wars, no Snape. She didn't want to give him an explanation, she didn't want to tell him what she felt for him. She didn't want to be hurt again.

She was about to voice these very opinions when the door behind her swung open, almost clipping her from behind. Harry stood outside the door, looking to Hermione and Snape in anxiety.

"What is it Potter?" Snape spat testily, furious at Harry for interrupting this seemingly perfect opportunity. Hermione was silent, looking to Harry in relief as well as agitation, refusing to meet Snape's imploring gaze.

"It's the Headmaster." Harry panted, his light eyes wild in a frenzy of over realization. Snape and Hermione both acquired pained looks of worry across their features, the words Harry finally spoke not registering completely.

"He's awake!"