#2 ~ What Was I Thinking ~ Part 2 (Small Edit)

Disclaimer: All characters belong to JKR. All situations are mine.
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Epilogue:


Eli the house-elf was tantamount to the outcome of the Final Battle. It was he who informed Severus when and where the final attack was to occur. The shocked Potions Master asked him where he got his information.

The elf ducked his head, twisted his small hands nervously and replied, “The other house-elves, sir. We is thinking that the Dark Lord is bad for everyone. Especially house-elves, sir. We is knowing Deatheaters is most cruel to us, above all other masters, sir. We is thinking that if the Dark Lord wins, then house-elves lose. We keeps our masters’ secrets, sir, but we is not keeping their dark, terrible Master’s secret. When we hears, we come together, sir, and discuss it. Then they picked me, sir, picked me to tell my kind Master the Dark Lord’s secret. So he can save us, sir. Save us all.”

Severus was moved. “You may have just saved the entire wizarding world, Eli. How can I reward you? Would you like clothes?”

The house-elf quailed, horror written on his tiny, green face

“Oh no, sir. No! Eli is happy serving the family of Snape. He doesn’t not want to leave the Manor!”

Eli began to cry. Severus reached down and patted the elf on the head awkwardly.

“Don’t worry, Eli,” he said soothingly, “I will not force you to take clothes if you do not want them. You are welcome to serve our family until the end of time, if it is your wish. But how can I reward you, then?”

The house-elf stopped crying, and looked up at Severus with a surprisingly fierce expression.

“You can lets us fight with you, when you meet the Dark Lord in battle, sir,” he answered, “all house-elves in service to those who serve the Light, sir.”

Severus thought about this. Before the House-Elves enslavement, they were a formidable group, capable of great destruction, having powerful magic. They were vicious, and fearless in battle, and had almost destroyed the entire wizarding world before they were defeated and bound to service. They would be powerful, loyal allies.

“I shall speak to Dumbledore about this, Eli, and inform you of his decision.”

Eli fairly leaped for joy. “Thank you, Sir,” he smiled broadly, revealing a startling sharp row of teeth, before he remembered himself, and returned to his proper state of servitude.

“You are welcome, Eli,” Severus said, turning to leave and report at once to Dumbledore.

“Master?” came Eli’s hesitant, squeaky voice.

“Yes, Eli?” Severus asked, turning to face the cringing house-elf.

Eli looked as if he had a small battle going on inside his head, then took a breath and said, wincing, “I trust Master’s Best Secret is well?”

Severus smiled at the elf.

“Yes, Eli. She is fine.”

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When the Deatheaters broke the wards of Hogwarts and apparated to the grounds, four thousand strong, they were met by an army of five thousand, wizards, witches, students, house-elves and even muggles, dressed in spell-repelling armor, and carrying muggle weapons.

The ministry sent no representatives, since Fudge was still in denial about the ultimate battle, and refused to commit his aurors to the fight, on the word of a house-elf. But the aurors were represented through the Order, and a group of about three hundred were added to the ranks.

Harry was there, of course, armed with the Sword of Godric Gryffindor. It had been discovered that the sword would magically protect the Boy-Who-Lived, and was believed to be the weapon that would bring down Voldemort.

The battle was fierce. The armies charged and clashed, spells and blood flying everywhere. Hermione, dressed in muggle jeans and t-shirt, with a vest of magic-repelling armor, charged fearlessly through the mayhem, flanking Harry, casting spells and hexes that left piles of deatheaters littering the ground, as they worked their way toward the Whomping Willow, where Voldemort was giving orders, and waiting for his final confrontation with ‘that damned Potter boy.’

Flanking Harry on the other side, Severus was the incarnation of Death itself. Armed with his wand and a short sword, he hexed and hacked his way through the ranks of his former allies, letting all the built-up hatred he held for them and the Dark Lord be released in the form of raging, brutal death.. This was his moment of, freedom, of redemption and if he were to die today, he planned to take scores of them to hell with him. Robes billowing, he darted and dodged through the barrage of spells with amazing speed, slicing deatheaters left and right until his sword arm was a limb of gore, his pale face splattered red with hot blood.

A line of fighters moved before them, clearing the way for Harry. A deatheater rose behind Severus. The Potions Master felt him, and crouched, spinning, intending to kick his legs out from under him, when the man let out a horrible, gurgling cry. He saw Eli, clinging like a small demon to the deatheaters throat by his teeth, blood spurting like a fountain as he tore away a hunk of flesh. The elf was covered in blood, and nodded to Severus as he leapt from the body before it hit the ground, and disappeared at startling speed back into the smoky fray.

Screams and curses flew, peppered by loud blasts and great gray clouds of smoke. Dumbledore looked like an avenging angel, all gentleness lost in the heat of battle as he blasted scores of deatheaters from the face of the earth. Minerva stood back to back with him, hurling powerful spells and taking her own ton of flesh from the ravening hoard of black robes figures descending on them, blasting them back, limbs flying and hoarse voices howling in pain. The forces of Light were gaining ground. It was time for the final showdown.

Voldemort stood beneath the Whomping Willow, the great tree stunned into immobility. It had been playing its part, whomping deatheaters to a pulp before Voldemort hit it with a binding spell. The only reason it wasn’t destroyed is that the Dark Lord planned to rule from Hogwarts and would have uses for the tree, that were undreamed of. Executions for example, the victims crushed by the powerful blows of the main knobbly bough.

Harry broke through the heavily guarded perimeter, and finally faced his nemesis. The murderer of his family, of countless innocents, of all that was noble and good. Voldemort faced him calmly, tapping his wand in his skeletal hand, red eyes focused on Harry. The battle raged on around them as the line protected Harry’s back as he faced the Dark Lord, sword in his right hand, his wand in his left

“I’m here, Voldemort!,” he cried, brandishing his sword. “It’s time for you to pay for your crimes!” Harry hurled a curse at the thin wizard, who deflected it smoothly with a flick of his wand. He laughed a mirthless, maniacal, high-pitched laugh, and flung a powerful hex back at the boy. The sword leapt up in Harry’s hand, deflecting it. The two wizards began battling in earnest, curses and hexes flying, as Harry struggled to get closer to the Dark Wizard.

Hermione had worked her way behind the Whomping Willow and was in the process of hurling her own curse at Voldemort, when a hex hit her, slicing her shoulder open and she screamed in pain. Severus spun, his heart pounding at the sound of his lover’s scream, and saw her fall, blood flowing freely over her white t-shirt. An evil laugh sounded to the left of him, and Lucius Malfoy emerged from the smoke, his wand pointed at Severus’ chest.

“I always knew you were a lying, traitorous, sack of dragon droppings. Pity the Dark Lord couldn’t see it.” Lucius glanced over to where Hermione lay, struggling to repair the damage to her bleeding shoulder.”

“I’m going to kill your little mudblood whore next, Severus. I’ll fuck her first. She’ll be begging for death when I’m through with her.”

Severus made a motion. Lucius shook his wand at him.

“Tut, tut, Severus. Not smart, old man, not smart.”

Lucius watched the battle going on between Harry and the Dark Lord. “Potter’s no match for him, you know. He’ll fail.”

“There’s more than Harry here,” Severus replied evenly, dark eyes on the wand, looking for an opening.

“I suppose you had dreams of slaughtering him yourself, eh Severus,” Lucius drawled, “Well that’s not going to happen.” His face suddenly screwed up with hatred as he screamed, “ Avada Ked…” He never finished.

Out of the smoke flew a small brown form, latching on to the wizard’s face, ripping and tearing, growling horrible. Lucius screamed and ripped at the small body attached to his head, but couldn’t tear it away. Blood started pouring from his face, wetting his robes, as he spun, weakening. The tiny creature continued biting and slashing at his face and throat until Lucius’ body dropped to the ground. The creature stilled, then slowly crawled off of the dead wizard, and turned to look at Severus. It was Dobby, the elf Harry freed from service to the Malfoy’s in his second year. Dobby wiped the blood from his chin.

“He was a bad wizard, sir,” Dobby said, looking at Severus with wide brown eyes, “Cruel and bad, sir.”

Severus was about to reply when a hex blasted past his ear. He flung himself to the ground and fired a blast in the direction the hex came from and was rewarded with a scream and a thump. He rolled to his feet, only to be hit with a glancing blow by another random hex and fell to the ground. Dobby flew through the smoke in the direction that hex came from, and a gurgle cry followed. Severus turned to look at Harry, who was frozen in place, stunned, his sword held out in front of him.

Voldemort was laughing, his hands weaving above his head, as a black pillar formed overhead, some dark powerful magic growing.

“Now you die, Potter!” he screamed, throwing his hands forward, flinging the black cloud towards the frozen young wizard.

“Nooooo!” Severus and Hermione screamed together.

Hermione grabbed her blouse and twisted a tiny necklace around her neck. The cloud slowed, and began to withdraw. Around the battlefield, spells returned to their wands, and people slowly ran backwards.

“Ten seconds,” she breathed. I have ten seconds to do it.”

Hermione forced herself to her feet as Harry stood frozen, and Voldemort weaved his arms calling on the magic. Flinging herself behind the Whomping Willow, Hermione cried, “Accio Harry!”

The boy who lived soared through the air, sword extended and flew towards the Whomping Willow…and Voldemort.

The thin wizard screamed as Harry’s sword ripped through his chest, and together they flew to the tree, the sword embedding in the trunk, impaling the dying wizard.

Harry’s green eyes watched as Voldemort struggled feebly on the sword, black blood draining from his wound, his red eyes dimming. The boy who lived was still frozen, but aware that the bane of the wizarding world was dying on the blade of the Gryffindor sword, and his heart swelled. Finally, reaching out one clawed hand to touch the tip of Harry’s face, the Dark Lord shuddered, and died.

From all around the battlefield, a cry of great pain rose up as the deatheaters clutched their marks, a white light emitting from them. Severus gritted his teeth, as his mark glowed, faded, then disappeared, his pale skin unmarked, as if the cursed thing never existed.

Suddenly the sound of apparating filled the field, as aurors from the ministry appeared, subduing the stunned deatheaters, as the battle turned. Voldemort was dead, there was no need to continued the fight. It was over. Harry Potter, the hope of the wizarding world, had killed Voldemort.

Hermione stepped from behind the Whomping Willow, holding her injured shoulder. She saw Severus on the ground, looking at her strangely. He had seen what happened. He knew what Hermione had done. She was the real hero.

Severus rose slowly to his knees, and raised himself from the ground weakly, walking toward the tree. Hermione released Harry from the spell. Harry looked at her a long moment, then said in a low voice, “You saved my life, Hermione, and you killed Vold…”

Hermione shushed him, as Severus walked up on the pair, and studied the reptilian form of the dead wizard, hanging from the embedded sword. Yes, he was dead all right. And Severus was free at last.

“Harry, I did what I had to do to save you. I love you, and couldn’t let Voldemort kill you,” she said quietly.

“But how?” Harry asked, “How did you do it. I saw him hurl the spell at me, and I couldn’t move…it was almost on me when suddenly it pulled back.”

Severus watched as Hermione held up a little key on a chain around her neck.

“I made this a while back. I call it a time jumper. It’s like a time turner, but it only goes back ten seconds. It actually reverses time, rather than moves the person bodily into a past time, where he can meet himself, so it doesn’t cause a paradox. It simply takes you back to the place you were ten seconds before. It was the idea of a young wizard who wanted to quickly be able to correct mistakes. I made it as a pet project, just to see if it could be done.” She looked at the dead wizard’s body, “Good thing I like a challenge.”

“Yeah,” Harry breathed, “A very good thing.”

Severus watched the exchange in silence, remembering how he had snatched the young wizard’s idea from her hand, and told her such a thing couldn’t be done. Thank the gods she was such a stubborn little witch. She probably did it just to prove him wrong.

People were beginning to approach the tree, curious to see Voldemort’s body. Hermione turned to Harry quickly, her eyes pleading.

“Harry, don’t tell them what happened. I don’t want to spend my life being the center of attention. I saw what it did to you. I don’t want that kind of attention.”

Harry looked doubtful, “But Hermione, you’re a hero…” he said.

“Then let me be an unsung one, Harry…like Severus has been all these years. Please, I wouldn’t be able to stand it. Please.”

Looking uncertain, Harry nodded. “Okay, ‘Moine. I won’t tell anyone. Not a soul. Not even Ron.”

“Thank you,” she breathed, hugging him. Harry looked at Severus, scowling. He still didn’t know about him and Hermione. Severus scowled back.

“Surely you do not think I would divulge Miss Granger’s secret? If she doesn’t want to be harassed for the rest of her life by hoards of simpering admirers, who am I to say otherwise? Really, Mr. Potter, you are just too thick for words.”

Harry looked at him blackly. Hermione stepped between them.

“Harry, I’m going to go, there are a lot of people who are going to want to talk with you, and I need to get this shoulder healed.”

“Ok, ‘Moine. I’ll talk to you as soon as I can.”

“Let me escort you, Miss Granger,” said Severus smoothly, “Navigating this crowd in your condition will be difficult without assistance.”

“Thank you, Professor,” she replied, her eyes meeting his. He had never seen her more beautiful standing there, with her face blackened by smoke, and her hair an utter bird’s nest.

“Shall we go then, before the hoard descends?” he asked.

He took her gently by her good arm and pushed his way through the backslapping crowd now surrounding Harry. The sounds of cheering and celebration flowed across the battlefield as they walked toward Hogwarts proper.

Severus looked down at the witch walking beside him.

“I told you that you had a destiny as great as Harry’s, “ he said softly, “A time jumper. Brilliant. Absolutely brilliant.”

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Severus and Hermione remained lovers for several years. Hermione stayed on at Hogwarts as a Spellmaker, the funds now being directed to provide scholarship monies for any and all qualified students, pureblood and muggle-born. Severus remained a snarky, sarcastic, Potions Master, though now a famous hero. This did nothing to improve his mood, though Hermione suspected that secretly he loved the attention. There was much shock and surprise when the relationship was made public, but with Severus recognized as an icon of the wizarding world, most people believed he had a right to a bit of happiness, and little scandal was afforded them. With the glaring exception of Rita Skeeter, of course, who ended up doing six months in Azkaban on the confirmation of an anonymous tip that she was an unregistered animagus. Hermione smiled for days. And Eli, Severus’ servant, became the first house-elf in wizarding history to receive the coveted Order of Merlin First Class, for his role in revealing the hour of the Final Battle. He declined clothes however.

Severus’ and Hermione’s sex life remained…incredible, though Hermione had developed a bit more masochistic tendencies. She found she liked being tied up in bed and ravished. Severus found he liked her tied up in bed and ravished. So it worked out well. There was also the little game they indulged in, where Severus would accost her in some out of the way place, and she had to fight to escape or he would fuck her right where he caught her. Sometimes she got away, sometimes she didn’t…but that too worked out.

Eventually they married, Hermione’s mothering instinct kicking in. They had two children, a dark-eyed, dark-haired daughter, named Desmona, who was just as snarky, sarcastic and adept at potions as her father, and a bushy-haired, knowledge-driven son, also named Severus, who seemed to excel at everything he put his long-fingered hands to. The only difference was he was very popular, and had many friends throughout the houses. Severus kept him grounded, however, not wanting him to grow up believing he was the center of the universe. The two children sniped at each other constantly, reminding Hermione of her tussles of will with Severus, but woe betide anyone who tried to come between them. They were very protective of each other and could hex with the best of them. Desmona was sorted into Ravenclaw, and surprisingly, Severus Jr. became a Slytherin. Severus was delighted that his loins produced no irritating Gryffindors.

So Severus Snape, Ever-Snarky Potions Master, Bloody Git and Former Deatheater, now Husband, Father and Respected Hero, ended up having a pretty pleasant and satisfying life after all, full of happiness, great sex and best of all, Love.

But he still scowled a lot.

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A/N: Thanks for reading all. Please review. :)

Voldy: There you go. Long, hard and thrusting, just like I promised. Ciao. ;)