The long and winding road to love

Alright…so… you will hate this chapter.
But don’t jump to conclusions, alright? I’ll update the betaed
version when Sylvia Potter, my amazing beta, sends me the corrected chapter 44.
Until then you’ll have to cope with this. I know. Nasty.

All reviews for chapter 43 will appear
at my lj. Click on the homepage on my account info.

Oh… I should let you know that chapter
45 will be the last one so.. *cries* … read and review
now that you have the chance! Thanks for everything…and… enjoy.

Chapter 44: There are places I’ll
remember

It is very difficult, when walking near the cliff of
death, to rationalize many of yours thoughts. Such was the case of Severus, as he
lay on the floor covered in blood and bruises. He was dying trying to protect
the one who had stolen his heart; his true love, Hermione Granger.

“Oh, Severus… I pity you, really. I never thought you
would sink to such a level of incapacity,” Lucius said, laughing incredibly
hard. His face had no scratches or marks of any kind due to the fight that was
taking place in his private chambers. Severus, however, was finding standing up
quite a difficult task and thus he knew that the only thing left to do was
ser
serve Hermione as a shield from evil. As long as he was to live not a
centimetre of her pure skin would be corrupted by sin. Even if his legs failed
to stand or his arms to move, he would give everything of him in order to
protect her. Ultimately, his life. And he had no problem whatsoever because
death was just another step in this crude battle.

mso-ansi-language:EN-GB'>Severus’ whole body was now pressed entirely on the
wooden floor boards that were not as warm as the rest of the room and that
calmed the wizard’s pains for a little though incredibly satisfactory period of
time. Crawling towards Hermione without
raising his eyes, he stretched his arms as far as he could in a T position, as
Christ had done once as a sign of redemption. Not that Severus believed in such
things, of course.

“See, Severus, dear?,” Lucius
enquired sarcastically standing near the Potion’s Master, looking down at him,
“I promised Death would come your way. And I’ve delivered. How does it feel to
be near death, to see her in the face? It must be awful, really. No,” he said,
putting his index finger over Severus’ lips, “don’t speak. I was only asking a
rhetorical question since I highly doubt I will see death any time soon, mate.
And, please, do not waste your energy explaining to your wife how scared
you feel at the moment because, and make no mistake here, she wexpeexperience
the exact same emotions soon after you embrace your fate...,” he explained
using Severus’ same words.

“Yoll nll not die,” Hermione whispered near Severus’
ear. Her face was puffy and purple because of the New Dark Lord’s previous
tortures but she had promised too; he was going to live and enjoy the green
grass at Snape’s Manor again, perhaps, she thought, holding the hand of an
incredibly smart witch that could perhaps, make him as mad as she had made him
during deep conversations regarding Potions, Muggle literature, cigarettes and
dark coffee, and love. And pleasure. A girl that would arouse in him deep
feelings; that would challenge him to experience the unknown; the uncertain:
love in all of its forms.

To speak about love you must experience it, someone
once said. I cannot agree more. And so did these two characters that standing
near the abyss were able to rejoice in the love that they share for the other;
a love that nothing- not even power, not even cruelty, not even the end- could
break for it was stronger than any other thing they had experienced in their
lives and much more fulfilling too.

Severus closed his eyes, as to enjoy the velvet of
Hermione’s voice. He searched for her hand and caressed the skin softly, being
extremely careful with her wounds. He did not particularly like to touch the
name of another man in her body, but he did it anyway because he knew that this
might be the last time he was ever going to feel another human being’s warmth.

“You will not die,” Severus repeateor tor the first
time looking at her in the eye. He moved his sore hand from her palm to her
face and caressed the broken flesh and the blood that had curved a path from
her forehead to her chin, “What have they done to you?,” he asked while
cleaning Hermione’s tears away with one finger. She sighed painfully at her
husband’s touch; feeling dirty at what they had made her do.

Lucius was witnessing the whole scene, getting from it
a particular type of satisfaction. He walked all the way to where his brown
leather sofa was, sat in it and unzipped his trousers without the couple
noticing. He was doing it in such a quiet way that Severus wondered why his
rival hadn’t separated him from Hermione Granger. But soon enough, all thoughts
unrelated to his wife disappeared. Nothing matter but her security; nothing
matter but to express the love he had felt for her since the very first moment
he had laid eyes upon her. Well, perhaps not the first time.

Sitting on the leather and stroking his member
repeatedly, Lucius thought of Hermione Granger naked with his name all over her
mixed with blood, sweat and saliva. He closed his eyes and thought of his
tongue exploring her curls- the one’s he had seen but never touched- and of his
evil fingers- acid fingers- destroying her inside. She would scream louder and
louder with each thrust of his fingers and bleed like a bloody virgin as he
pulled her hair a little bit. She would devour his manhood and swallow every
drop of wickedness that came out of it. And she would not enjoy it. But,
indeed, he was getting pleasure out of the whole fictional situation.

mal> 

He opened his eyes only to find love all around him.

No.

The room hadn’t changed a bit; it was still dark and
gloomy. His victims’ bodies hadn’t changed a bit; they were bleeding and
painfully holding to what little life they had left. His feelings hadn’t
changed a bit: he still wanted to slowly kill them. Then, what had changed?

The situation, perhaps: His victims wehariharing a
kiss of love. A kiss that he might have never shared with a single soul; a kiss
that he was never to share with anyone.

That alone pushed Lucius to the edge of insanity. He
was going to have her. Yes. He was going to rape Hermione Granger like he had
first intended to do it. He was going to kill Severus in front of her with a
single curse after stabbing his heart repeatedly with his stick. Yes.

So he ran, ran, ran and ran because time was too
precious to waste it. Lucius felt the desire- no, the urge- to kill the bastard
kissing the girl in front of him. So, as he approached Severus, he raised his
black stick and grabbing the snake’s head, he placed it on Severus’ back. And
said:

“Very nice, Severus. Very nice, indeed. But that’s
enough,”

And with one single but strong push, he stabbed him.
Severus’ opened his almond shaped eyes as wide as he could and caught a glimpse
of how his wife’s big eyes seemed lost in desperation. He collapsed on the
floor and bled without closing his eyes.

The ceiling was white; as white as it had never been:
as pale as the snow covering Hogwarts in winter, pale as Hermione’s skin. Oh,
God! How much he would give in order to spend one more winter with her! But
that was not to happen. And when Lucius’ green eyes-the eyes of a Snake- stared
at him for the last time in his life, he knew what he had to do. He had to die.
But somehow, he had to make sure that his love was going to live through this
experience. He needed to make sure. And when he heard the old man’s voice he
grinned with such sincerity that Lucius was repulsed to see a former Death
Eater grin like a stupid fourteen year old.

“I would sincerely recommend you, Lucius, dear, to
drop that wand of yours,” someone said from the doorframe. The bodies of what
seemed seven masked Death Eaters were flying in the air by the mere power of
his mind, “I am ad, Ld, Lucius, that these men were under the impression that
something remarkably important was about to happen here and I decided to follow
them. I do hope you don’t mind me interrupting,” he said, placing those men in
the floor boards and raising his wand up high.

And suddenly, the white in the ceiling spread to the
walls, the furniture, the floor boards and even the people standing on that
awfully dark room. Severus felt the whiteness enter his body and repair his
soul- not his flesh- like no Potion could have done.
And so, Severus smiled. His job was done. Now, he could close his eyes and rest
forever knowing for certain that someone would look after dear Hermione dressed
in white like the Helen of Troy of Contemporary times. His wife, his life...
his everything was safe now. And so was he even though that was of no
importance.