It Happened One Hallow's Eve

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belong to JKR. All situations are mine. No $$$ is being made from this fanfic.
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Chapter 29 ~ Approaching Armageddon

Hermione slept horribly that night, dreaming of Harry and Severus being blown to bits by Voldemort. She woke up screaming three separate times, then finally curled up with her pillow pressed into her belly, sobbing uncontrollably.

She might lose both of them.

The witch knew she had promised Severus to be strong, but when she was alone, her fears seemed to get the better of her. If only she could do something. Harry had told her that the plan was all the students would be warded inside the Great Hall with the staff while the battle went on outside. They would be armed and would protect themselves if any Death Eaters made it through the castle defenses.

Hermione wasn’t worried about that happening. From what she was told the Death Eaters would be greatly outnumbered as well as surprised. It was likely the Order would take them out quickly and with dispatch. But as for Harry and Severus…they would be facing the Dark Lord away from the battle. They would be in grave, grave danger.

She lay there in the bed, her eyes glistening. Dear gods, she hoped they would survive.

***************************************

Hermione awoke early the next morning and felt famished. She showered, dressed and quickly headed to the Great Hall for breakfast, not bothering to wake Harry. He had practiced hard last night in anticipation of Severus trying to beat him to death again with the dummy. He needed his rest. As she reached the main stairwell, who should walk out of the dungeon corridor but Draco Malfoy.

Hermione tried to dip back, but the quick-eyed wizard saw her and looked around to see if anyone else was present. No. Just he and Hermione. Draco looked back up the stairs, then folded his arms, waiting for the witch to descend.

Hermione was no coward. Reaching into her pocket and gripping her wand securely, she slowly walked down the stairs, her eyes on the blonde wizard. Draco began to approach as she stepped off the stairs. Hermione whipped out her wand.

“Hold it right there, Draco. Don’t make me hex you,” she warned.

Draco held up his hands and stopped.

“Hold on, Granger. I have something I want to say to you,” he said, “Really. I’m not going to attack you.”

Hermione scowled.

“Maybe not physically, Draco…but you have other ways to hurt people,” she responded.

Draco sighed.

“Look. This isn’t easy for me…but I just wanted to tell you, I’m sorry what I said to you yesterday. About the Professor…about you and the Professor. I didn’t understand,” the wizard said.

Hermione continued to scowl at him.

“I don’t believe you,” she said, still holding her wand on him.

“I talked to the Professor yesterday…and he opened my eyes to a lot of things I didn’t see before. Things I was blind to. I’m going to have to change a lot of my perceptions and beliefs, Granger. I just thought I would start with you. It’s…it’s a first step,” the wizard said sincerely. “You don’t have to forgive me…I just wanted to tell you I'm sorry.”

Hermione lowered her wand slowly.

“What happened? Did the Professor threaten to beat you within an inch of your life if you didn’t apologize to me?” Hermione asked with a sneer.

“No,” Draco sneered back, “He just explained some things to me, like I said. His…his intentions toward you. It’s not what I thought it was. It’s all right, I guess. I decided to apologize to you myself. You deserve an apology.”

Hermione stood there, staring at the pureblood.

“Well you gave it to me,” she said shortly, her wand still in her hand.

“That’s all I wanted to do,” Draco replied. He turned and headed for the Great Hall, pulling the door open and walking through.

Hermione stood there a couple of minutes more, trying to absorb what just happened. Draco apologizing to her? How strange was that? She didn’t think the wizard had ever apologized to anyone in his life other than his father.

But did he mean it?

Her brow furrowed, Hermione walked into the Great Hall and up the aisle, taking a seat at the round table. Filch was there, as usual…frowning at Hermione, Draco and the three other student early risers that sat around the table.

Draco was eating scrambled eggs and bacon with toast. A tall glass of pumpkin juice sat beside his plate. He looked up at Hermione for a moment, then continued eating.

Hermione ordered her breakfast, and as she waited for her meal to appear, she considered Draco’s apology. Maybe it could be sincere. He had been the one to warn the Headmaster about Voldemort’s planned attack. That effectively moved him out of the realm of darkness he was immersed in. His own life was forfeit now if Voldemort discovered his duplicity. There had to be some good in the wizard to have done that. Or at least, a conscience buried under all the pureblood ideology.

She looked at Draco thoughtfully. He had been such a bastard to her all these years. Could she ever truly forgive him, or trust him? Especially considering the nasty things he had said to her lately about her relationship with the Potions Master…and how he tried to get her to become his mistress, kept woman…whatever. He was a pig.

But still, what had Severus said to him to make him want to apologize on his own? The Potions Master could be very persuasive. Maybe one day she would find out.

If they won the battle, that is.

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Severus slung the dummy towards Harry, who was standing in readiness, the sword of Gryffindor held in front of him. He had a good grip on it. Hermione had levitated large bean bags at him provided by the Room of Requirement the night before. At first she knocked him down a few times, but after a while, he had cut them up pretty good using the moves Severus had shown him. It seemed Harry Potter was a quick study with a cutlass. He just had to be pummeled long enough to focus.

Harry danced aside and cut the dummy across the belly cleanly. Severus nodded, impressed. If that had been a man, he would have been disemboweled.

“Not too shabby, Mr. Potter. I believe you have a gift with the cutlass,” the wizard said. Harry almost dropped his sword in disbelief. Snape actually giving him praise?

”Don’t look so startled, Mr. Potter. I give encouragement when needed…and it is definitely needed considering who you have to face,” Severus called, slinging the dummy toward him again, but checking it this time so Harry missed with his slice, then ramming the dummy into him and knocking him to the ground.

Severus smirked as he began to beat Harry with the stuffed dummy viciously, the wizard flailing and trying to get to his feet.

“You still have work to do, Mr. Potter,” he said with a dark grin.

*************************************

For the next three days Harry practiced dutifully, returning to the castle and continuing to practice both spells and swordplay. He was doing well. Severus was right. The cutlass didn’t require a lot of training for its wielder to be effective. Using the basic slashes parries and footwork, combined with the thrust/parry drills, a beginner could be dangerous.

Harry caught on to the new hexes quickly as well, fueled by the hope they would sufficiently aggravate Voldemort to the point of carelessness. Harry didn’t plan to use too many of them, since he would be affected as well. The sword was the best way to go. From what he had heard, Voldemort was easy to upset. If he could get the wizard off-balance, maybe he could kill him.

And maybe little Ginnys would fall out of the sky.

He wished Ginny was here. He could use her special kind of comfort right now. The days seemed to be flying past.

He wondered about Hermione and Snape too. For involved people, they weren’t seeing very much of each other. But that probably was because they were trying to hide their relationship. Harry thought Hermione might be sneaking to the Professor’s rooms at night, but it was clear she wasn’t. Hermione, though she was helping him, seemed very quiet and withdrawn. Not talkative at all, which was unusual.

Severus had noticed the change in the witch as well, but he knew what it was. The upcoming battle. Hermione was feeling apprehensive, and rather than voice her fear, she was keeping it in, and avoiding him. She didn’t want to be discouraging to either him or Harry. She kept her eyes lowered at all the meals, not looking at him, and left early, either accompanying Harry to the ROR or disappearing into the castle depths. Severus gave her the space she needed. She would come to him when she was ready…hopefully before the Final Battle.

The Potions Master wanted her one more time, to hear her say she loved him just one more time…in case he didn’t survive.

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The next morning Harry walked across the grounds to the Whomping Willow, to find Professor Snape waiting for him, a cutlass in one hand and a wand in the other.

“Good morning, Mr. Potter,” the wizard said silkily, nodding to him. The dummy was nowhere in sight.

From his perch in the branches of the Whomping Willow, Crookshanks adjusted himself to a more comfortable position to watch the daily entertainment. The half-kneazle noticed immediately there was no dummy and yowled with disappointment. It was fun watching his mistress’ friend being buffeted about, though yesterday he had sliced it up pretty good, the hook-nosed wizard having to repair it several times.

Harry stopped about ten meters away from Severus. It seemed like a safe distance. The wizard eyed the Potions Master’s wand. Severus smirked.

“We will be combing swordplay and wandplay, Mr. Potter. I hope you can hex with your left hand as well as your right, since you must handle your cutlass,” the wizard said.

Harry pulled off his padded glove and pulled his wand out of his sleeve, replacing the glove and letting his eyes wash over the Potions Master.

“You aren’t wearing any protective gear, Professor,” he commented.

“I thought my lack of gear would give you more incentive, Mr. Potter. You can actually cut me…though I doubt you will,” the wizard replied. “I will give you a moment to prepare yourself.”

Harry took a deep breath and the next moment found himself on the ground with Professor Snape’s cutlass resting against his padded throat, the wizard’s dark eyes glinting at him.

“I thought you said you were going to give me a moment!” Harry cried as he looked up at the pale wizard.

“I did give you a moment, Mr. Potter. Unfortunately, there is no set measurement of time to gauge how long that is. In other words, you should always be on your guard,” Severus purred. “You are dead because of your carelessness. Now get up.”

The Potions Master removed his sword and stood back, allowing Harry to stand up and brush himself off.

“Never assume an opponent will give you quarter, Mr. Potter. Now, defend yourself!” the wizard said, slashing at Harry, who leaped back and parried. Severus proceeded to rain blows down on the wizard, who barely managed to avoid them with a combination of desperate parries and footwork, doing more dancing backward than anything.

Severus pursued him, his eyes cold, hacking and slashing. The clashing of their blades rang across the grounds. Finally, the Potions Master sliced him neatly across the belly.

“Your entrails are on the ground, but I must say Mr. Potter, you didn’t die easily. Still, you have no offense. Fight back. Attack me,” Severus panted.

Harry studied him for a moment, then slashed at the pale wizard. Severus neatly caught the blow, rotated his blade in a wide circle and tore Harry's cutlass out of his hand. The Potions Master then hacked at Harry's neck, checking the blade when it came in contact with his padded suit.

Harry looked at the Potions Master wide-eyed, his chest heaving as the sharp edge of the blade rested against his throat.

“Again, Mr. Potter,” Severus said, stepping back. “Your eyes are giving your strikes away. Try not to look where you are going to strike.”

Keeping his eyes locked to the Professor’s, Harry attacked again. He put up a fairly decent offense, but the Professor soon had him dancing back. Suddenly, Harry found his back against the tree and the Professor approaching him…about to give a deathblow.

Harry blasted him with his wand.

Severus flew back several feet, landing on his ass. The wizard sat there a minute, his head lowered, and his lack hair a curtain around his face. Harry looked at him nervously.

“Um, Professor?” he said, walking toward him slowly. “Are you all right?”

Severus looked up at him.

“I am fine, Mr. Potter. Just wondering when you were going to use your wand,” the wizard replied, getting up off the ground and brushing off his robes. He picked up his cutlass and his wand.

“Now you are starting to fight, Mr. Potter,” Severus said, his lips quirking with approval. “But it would have been better if you had taken advantage of my condition and held me with your sword. However, still a fairly decent showing. You have also opened up wandplay. Now, let’s really get down to business.”

The two wizards faced off, Harry quite heartened by his small victory.

In the Astronomy tower, Hermione was doing a little victory dance for Harry. Of course, she cared about the Potions Master, but he had been dominating the younger wizard up to this point. Harry had finally managed to get him. So that meant he was learning.

In the next three hours, Harry managed to get Severus off his feet several more times and even slashed his robes a few times. They had several grappling matches also, but Severus threw him every time. Harry had some self-defense training, but was no match for the older wizard.

“Avoid grappling with the Dark Lord,” Severus advised. “You’re no match for him.”

Thin as he was, Voldemort was a skilled fighter in hand-to-hand contact. He knew how to protect himself and defeat an opponent. There was no time to teach Harry what he would need to know to thwart him.

“Use the tree!” Severus said as he drove Harry back. Harry dipped behind it, appearing on the other side, sending a blast at the Potions Master, who avoided it and sent back one of his own, which Harry also slipped.

Severus was very satisfied with Harry. He wasn’t afraid of getting hurt, but knew when to withdraw and when to attack. His instinct for self-preservation was very good. Severus stood down.

“That is enough for today, Mr. Potter. Keep practicing and we will engage again tomorrow. Practice is the key,” Severus said, repairing the tatters in his robes.

The young wizard had come quite close to carving him on several occasions. Maybe a bit of protective gear would be in order for tomorrow. He hadn’t survived all these years to be accidentally cut down by Harry Potter.

“I want you to remember limbs are objects for attack as well. There is nothing wrong with slashing at arms and legs. The blows will disable your opponent,” Severus said to Harry as he pulled his tight hood off his head. It was cold, but the air felt good to the wizard.

“Yes sir,” Harry said.

Severus looked at Harry soberly.

“Until tomorrow, Mr. Potter,” the wizard said, disapparating.

Harry began walking toward the castle. Hermione had explained to him why the Professor could apparate on the grounds of Hogwarts. It made sense. Harry wished he could do it. He was so bloody tired.

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Several more days passed and the Hogwarts staff returned on the second, well rested from their holiday and refreshed. They had that ‘renewed’ aura that surrounded individuals whose time away from work was well spent. But their good mood was quickly quashed.

“The Final Battle? Here on the grounds? Oh, Albus…we must evacuate the school!” Minerva cried.

“No, Minerva. We must do nothing out of the ordinary. It may give us away. On the morning of the fourth, all students and staff will enter the Great Hall at six o’clock and be sealed in until such time as the battle ends or we are overrun. It is highly doubtful that will occur. Yet if it does, you and the students will fight and defend yourselves if the wards are broken.”

Albus looked around the staff room solemnly.

“No word of the impending attack is to be shared with the student body. To insure this, I am requiring all of you to take a Wizarding Oath. It will keep you from inadvertently saying anything about the situation within hearing of a student,” the Headmaster said.

This was a wise precaution. Students could pop up anywhere at any time and catch the tail end of a private conversation. No doubt the staff would be discussing it among themselves.

They all took the oath.

“What are you going to do, Headmaster? Will the Order be here?” Professor Flitwick asked, his voice squeaking with concern.

“For obvious reasons I cannot give you the details of our course of action, but the castle will be well-protected, and we have every reason to believe the battle will be short and we will be victorious,” Albus replied, his eyes twinkling.

The twinkle was reassuring to the staff members.

“Now, I expect you to act in a normal manner tomorrow when the students return. Heads of houses, be sure to take a thorough head count of your charges. We need to know how many students have come back from holiday,” Albus said as the meeting began to break up.

Severus knew he would be missing quite a few Slytherins. Those whose parents were Death Eaters would not be returning to Hogwarts. Draco was expected to be waiting on the grounds when the ranks arrived and join them in battle. Severus himself would bring him out by apparition.

“The moment Harry draws his sword, you are to disillusion yourself and get as far away from the battle as you can,” the wizard instructed the pureblood that evening. “Be sure not to head for the gate or the castle. Run for the open grounds.”

But Draco didn’t want to run. He wanted to fight. To be part of the battle. Running was cowardly, and he was no coward.

“Yes sir,” he said to Severus, who looked at him sharply.

“We have enough heroes for this battle, Mr. Malfoy. Getting yourself killed will benefit no one,” he said to the young wizard evenly. “Do as I say.”

”I understand, sir,” Draco had replied.

Severus dismissed him, shaking his head.

He knew Draco wouldn’t listen. He had too much pride. A lot of dead wizards did.

Severus retired to his rooms and had a firewhiskey or two while sitting in front of the fireplace and staring into the flames. Hermione had still not come to him. Tomorrow night was the last night before the Final Battle. If the witch did not come to him then, he would have to go and retrieve her.

He didn’t intend to spend the night before his possible demise alone.

*************************************

Severus needn’t have worried. Hermione had every intention of sharing his bed. She wanted to make it a special night for the wizard, and for herself. She had transfigured one of her nightgowns into the exact replica of a negligee she saw in a catalogue, and made it Slytherin green with silver trim. It was very sheer, and she blushed when she tried it on and looked at herself in the mirror. It didn’t leave anything to the imagination. She turned a pair of knickers into a silver thong. She found it very uncomfortable.

“Well, it won’t be on for long,” she told herself as she tried to adjust the string to a more comfortable position.

It was the morning of the third, and students were already returning to the castle, chattering and jostling each other without a care in the world. Ignorance truly was bliss.

Ron stalked up the stairs and into the room he shared with Harry. Harry wasn’t there. It was just as well. They still weren’t speaking. He had nothing to say to that traitor.

Ron tossed his suitcase on the bed, opened it and began to take out his clothes. Something glittered near Harry’s bed. Ron blinked, then looked toward the door a moment, trying to decide if he should look to see what the glitter was and risk getting caught by Harry. His curiosity got the better of him.

“What was that?” Ron said to himself.

He walked over to the head of Harry’s bed and looked down. Between the bed and the nightstand, resting against the wall, was a scabbard. A jeweled hilt was sticking out of it. Ron pulled the scabbard out and withdrew the cutlass, examining it.

“What the bloody hell? This is Godric Gryffindor’s sword,” he breathed. He had seen Harry with it before, when he exited the Chamber of Secrets after killing the basilisk and destroying the memory of Tom Riddle.

“Why does Harry have this?” Ron wondered.

His brain began to work. It didn’t take him long to figure out Harry was going to fight Voldemort. There could be no other reason he had Godric’s sword. Snape had come to the Burrow and collected him early. Harry must have been preparing for the Final Battle.

Shit.

The holiday at the Burrow had been terrible after Percy’s duplicity was discovered. It was a good thing he was out of the loop as far as Snape’s spying went. Actually, everyone with the exception of Arthur and Molly, didn’t know Severus worked for the Order.

Fred and George showed up later that evening and found Molly crying in the living room. When they discovered why, both wizards ran upstairs and got Bill to unward the door on the pretense that they wanted to “speak” to Percy, then proceeded to beat the hell out of him until Bill, Charlie and Ron managed to drag them from the room.

Percy was kept imprisoned the entire holiday, and as far as Ron knew, was still locked up. Molly had been inconsolable.

“Why Percy? Why?” she wailed at her son, Percy looking absolutely miserable as his mother fell apart.

He hadn’t wanted to hurt her. He just wanted to be better. Be part of something powerful. He wished he could go back in time and remove the damn Mark. Anything would be better than breaking his mother’s heart.

“Mum. Mum, please stop crying. Please. I’m sorry,” he said to his mother as he stood in the center of the room, Molly sitting on the bed sobbing.

“How could you do this, Percy? Voldemort is evil incarnate. You’ve brought shame to this family,” she said to him, her eyes red from crying.

“Mum. Voldemort’s going to win. He’s too strong for the Order. If I’m a Death Eater, maybe he’ll spare our family if you’ll swear fealty to him,” Percy said. “Then everything will be all right for us.”

”I’d die before I’d swear fealty to that…that monster! So would your father, Percy. Don’t you understand he will destroy everything that is good in our world? You won’t have any power, Percy. He will have all the power. All you have is that damn Mark!” the witch said, looking at his left arm, which was covered by his robes. “He’s a murderer. Ron’s a friend of Harry’s. Do you think he would really spare him, Percy? No, he wouldn’t. Arthur associates with muggles. Do you think he’ll forgive that? No! He won’t! You doing this won’t save any of us, Percy. It only makes you part of his evil!”

Percy looked at his mother, his eyes glistening. Suddenly he launched himself at her, falling on his knees, wrapping his arms around her waist and laying his head in her lap.

“I’m sorry, mum…I’m so sorry. I was just trying to…trying to…” he sobbed freely.

Molly looked down at her misguided child, and began to stroke his hair as he cried.

“You’ve always been different, Percy. You were always dissatisfied, always wanted more. And I didn’t help. Arthur used to tell me I was showing favoritism…but I saw you were ambitious, really wanted to make something of yourself. You were driven, and I wanted to be supportive. I believed you could become Minister of Magic one day if you were given enough encouragement. So I did give you more than I gave the others…but I never dreamed your ambitions would lead you down this path,” she said softly. “But don’t worry Percy. We’ll get through this, love. We’ll get through this.”

Molly had a mother’s love. Yes, Percy had made a mistake…a big mistake…but he was still her son and she had a fierce love for her child. Voldemort might have got him, but he wasn’t going to keep him. Not while there was breath in her body.

Arthur was still angry that Percy had joined the Death Eaters, but somewhat relieved as well. Though veritaserum, the wizard discovered that although Percy had taken the Mark, he had not engaged in any illegal activities as of yet. He received the Mark in a mysterious ceremony where he was hooded and the emblem burned into his forearm. He hadn’t even seen the Dark Lord. Later, there was to have been a presentation where he would meet the Dark Lord face to face, have the Mark invoked and be formally indoctrinated into the ranks. So technically, Percy was not a full-fledged Death Eater, he only had the Mark. He couldn’t even be summoned yet. But the Mark was enough for him to kept locked down until after the Final Battle.

Ron was just about to put the sword back, when the door opened and Harry walked in. He looked at Ron holding his cutlass and his green eyes narrowed.

“What the fuck are you doing?” he asked Ron, striding over and pulling the cutlass out of Ron’s hands.

Ron looked at Harry with wide eyes as he put the sword back in the scabbard.

“I saw something glittering and had a look,” he replied, still staring at Harry. “What’s going on?”

Harry put the sword back between his bed and the nightstand, then turned to Ron.

“What do you care? You made it plain we aren’t friends anymore because of Ginny,” he said to Ron.

Ron cleared his throat.

“Harry, you’re going to fight Voldemort aren’t you?” he asked.

Harry sat down on the side of his bed and didn’t say anything. Ron sat down on his own bed directly across from him.

“When? When Harry?” Ron asked him, his belly tight with fear. Despite what he said about Ginny, Ron loved Harry. He was his best mate.

Harry just looked at the floor sullenly.

“Listen Harry,” Ron said, “I’m an idiot. A fucking idiot. When I don’t like something I don’t think about how anyone else feels except myself. I know I’m being stupid about Ginny…even about Hermione. The truth is, mate, is that if Ginny has to be with anyone, I’d rather she’d be with you. I know you’d treat her right. I’m really sorry for the way I blew up, Harry. I really am.”

Harry looked up into Ron’s blue eyes. The wizard was sincere, he could tell. Hell, he had hidden his relationship with Ginny from his best friend. He could have just been upfront and told Ron he liked her. He might not have been happy, but at least he would have known.

“It’s not all your fault, Ron,” Harry said, “I should have told you I liked Ginny.”

Ron smirked.

“I would have had bugbears,” he replied with a slight grin. “There wasn’t really any way to tell me that would have been good. I’ve just got to grow up, Harry. The world doesn’t work the way I want it to…or I’d be captain of the Quidditch team.”

”Yeah,” Harry agreed. Then he stuck out his hand. “Friends?”

Ron gripped his hand and shook it vigorously.

“Friends,” he said smiling. But the smile soon faded.

“Now, what’s going on?” he asked.

Harry told Ron about Draco telling the Headmaster Voldemort’s plan to overrun Hogwarts, Snape giving him spells and training him with the cutlass, how the Order planned to end the battle swiftly, and how he had to fight Voldemort in order to fulfill the Prophecy. He didn’t tell Ron about Snape and Hermione though. Most likely Ron would fall right back into idiot mode.

“Harry, I want to help,” Ron said earnestly. He couldn’t stand the idea of Harry facing Voldemort alone.

Harry looked at his friend. He appreciated the offer, but there was nothing Ron could do.

“Ron, this is my fight,” Harry said, “There’s nothing you can do, and it doesn’t make sense for both of us to get killed.”

Ron’s eyes darkened.

“You think you’re going to be killed, Harry?” Ron asked him.

Harry nodded.

“Not right away though, thanks to Snape. Hopefully I can keep Voldemort distracted long enough for someone else to kill him. But I don’t think I can beat him, Ron. I don’t think I’m going to survive,” Harry replied.

Ron’s eyes began to fill.

“But Harry…” he started.

Harry scowled.

“Look Ron, this isn’t about me…not really. Voldemort has to be stopped and not to save my life, but to save the wizarding world. Can you imagine what it will be like if he comes to power? How many people will die? How much suffering there will be? I’m only one wizard, Ron. What’s one wizard compared to thousands? If I die fighting Voldemort, it will be a good death and if he dies because of me, that will be even better. There’s no use trying to find a way out of this Ron. The only way out of it, is to go through it. And I’m willing to do that for myself and for everyone. Either way, it will be over,” the wizard said, standing up. “The only thing I want right now is to be with Ginny one more time. I hope you don’t mind that. She means a lot to me.”

Ron looked up at his friend.

“No, Harry. I don’t mind it at all, mate. She’s probably finished putting her things away,” he said.

Harry walked to the door.

“I’m going to go see her then. I’ll see you at lunch…all right?” Harry said to Ron, who waved his hand at him.

“Right then. I’ll see you later,” Ron replied.

Harry exited the room.

Ron sat on the bed dejectedly. He was going to lose the best friend he’d ever had…and there was nothing he could do about it. He always knew Harry was going to have to face Voldemort sooner or later…but it never really sunk in until now.

Ron shook his head. Harry Potter had to be the bravest wizard in the world.

**************************************

Severus was making his nightly rounds. He timed them so he would meet up with Hermione.

He needed her.

The wizard was entering the third floor corridor when he heard a noise. Quickly the Potions Master disillusioned himself and pressed against the wall. A stairwell from the upper landing shifted down and connected. No one was on it.

Then he heard footsteps. Students. Suddenly the hems of two robes appeared, fluttered, then disappeared. Severus realized that the students were under an Invisibility Cloak. The only student that he knew of who had such a cloak was Harry Potter.

Severus stood very still as Harry and Ginny passed, apparently heading for the Room of Requirement. The Potions Master didn’t stop them. If ever a night called for the comfort of a witch’s arms, this was the night. Every condemned man had a right to some pleasure before his demise.

Severus waited until the couple’s footsteps faded, then continued on his rounds, checking the corridor quickly before returning to mount the stairs to the fourth floor. As he stood on the landing, the wizard looked up to see Hermione mounting the stairs to come down to his floor. He stepped back, hiding in the corridor so the witch wouldn’t see him.

Hermione rode the stairwell down, her mind focused firmly on the Potions Master. She planned to floo to his rooms right after she finished her rounds. Her belly was in knots. She hadn’t been with the wizard in days and found that she ached for him.

She stepped off the stairs and started to walk up the corridor when suddenly she was grabbed, a hand clamped over her mouth before she could scream.

“Hello Hermione,” Severus purred at her, releasing her mouth as the witch recognized him.

“Severus,” she breathed.

“Yes, Severus. I thought you may have forgotten me,” he said silkily, drawing her against his body. Gods, she felt good.

“No. No, I haven’t forgotten you,” she responded, her eyes shining.

“Show me then,” he breathed, lowering his head and kissing her hungrily. The witch returned his hunger, her body trembling against him with need. Severus hardened immediately and drew back from her.

“Come to my rooms after rounds tonight, Hermione. I need you,” he said to her softly, pressing his erection into her belly. The witch was breathing so hard she could hardly catch her breath, the wizard's words and closeness affected her so strongly. Severus said he needed her. Hermione had always believed Severus Snape had never needed anyone in his life.

But he needed her.

“I’ll be there,” she said.

Severus gave her one more searing kiss, fighting the urge to find a niche and take Hermione right there. He wanted her in his bed. He wanted to wake up beside her in the morning. And more than that…he wanted to know where she was when he left the castle. He didn’t trust the witch to go to the Great Hall with the other students. He had already informed Albus of his plans for her.

The Headmaster agreed. Hermione was very headstrong after all. He didn’t want the brilliant witch to put herself in danger.

“Do what you need to do, Severus,” Albus told him.

He planned to.

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A/N: Whew. Long chapter, but I had a lot to cover and breaking it up would have taken too long. I hope the transitions were smooth enough and not too rushed. Well, it is now the night before the Final Battle. Harry is with Ginny and soon Severus will be with Hermione. Lemons up next…then…the Battle itself. Can’t wait to write that! :) Please review.