Saving your life

As he carefully approached the opposite end of the clearing, with Hermione close behind him, Severus could feel the air dense with magic, and he could sense the Dark Lord’s anger from afar. That had to be a good sign.

The last time he had seen Voldemort, he had been about to kill Hermione, and when Charlie Weasley had flown by and saved her, Severus had only waited long enough to see that Potter wasn’t too hurt to fight for himself before going after the dragon, needing to make sure she was really safe.

Now he could see Potter had not only managed to fight Voldemort, but he had also managed to stay alive this long. Surprising indeed. Perhaps the boy wasn’t such a lost cause as he had feared, after all.

Of course, Potter had had help, that much was clear from the bodies lying around the Dark Lord. How many had died to save him? How many more would die before he finally killed Voldemort? Was he even capable of doing that? Was this child strong enough to defeat the most powerful wizard the world had known?

During the hours that had passed since the battle had begun Severus had seen more death than he could ever remember seeing before, not even in the first war, and that was certainly saying something. He had killed so many Death Eaters he had lost count long before then, and he had no idea how many supporters the Order had already lost.

His plan had worked for the most part, he had made sure of that, going from one fight to the other, helping the Order members and hunting down and killing any Death Eater that managed to escape the fight before they could reach Voldemort. Their only chance of winning was by crushing all the support groups the Dark Lord was counting on, taking them by surprise before they could make it to the main battle, keeping them away from Potter, and they had managed to do that quite well.

But now it all came down to one boy, and what he could or could not do against Voldemort himself, and as Severus moved as close to the clearing as he could without being seen, it seemed to him Potter would never make it on his own.

He took a moment to look around, trying to find a place for Hermione to stay, somewhere she would be safe, some place where no Death Eater would find her. The trees were the only thing that offered any kind of cover, so he made his way back into the forest, going far enough so that she wouldn’t be able to see the fight, or the dead Order members.

“Stay here,” he said, once he found the perfect spot, just behind a large tree.

“What?”

“Stay here, I’ll be back.”

“I’m not staying here,” she said, and he could hear the confusion and anger in her voice. “Harry’s out there, and he needs my help.”

“Potter has all the help he needs.”

“I didn’t stay here just to stand idly aside and let others fight, I won’t…”

“I don’t know who is out there, or what has happened since I left.,” he interrupted. “I need you to stay here while I go assess the situation. I cannot be out there and look after you at the same time.”

“I don’t need you to look after me,” she said hotly, “I can take care of myself.”

He wanted to tell her that wasn’t true, remind her of how Charlie Weasley had had to save her from Voldemort, or how he had saved her from Lucius, but he knew that wouldn’t help. If he said that, it would only lead to a fight, and that was the last thing either of them needed.

He was tempted to skip the arguments and just send her back to headquarters, but he knew her well enough to know she would find a way to come back; at least this way he could keep an eye on her.

Taking a step closer to her, he lifted his hand and caressed her cheek. “I almost lost you twice already tonight,” he said softly. “I need you to stay here while I am gone. I will come back as soon as I know what is happening.”

“Severus, I can’t…”

“I need to know you’ll be safe,” he said, almost pleadingly, silencing the last of her protests.

He might be playing dirty, but he was a Slytherin after all, and as his eyes met hers he knew it had worked.

“Be careful,” she said, covering his hand with hers for a moment, then she took a step back. “Hurry.”

“Stay here,” he said once more, then turned around and walked to the edge of the clearing, careful to stay behind the cover of the trees.

Voldemort was standing near where Severus was, and he was duelling both Potter and Moody at the same time. Severus could see the two of them were putting up quite a fight, but it was clear to him that the Dark Lord was going to win. Those bloody Order members, so self righteous and noble, would never resort to the kind of magic needed to defeat a wizard like Lord Voldemort.

He watched them for a few moments, unsure of what to do. A part of him wanted to take action, to take on Voldemort himself, like he had wanted to for years, but Dumbledore’s words echoed in his mind again. The wizard had wanted Potter to have his chance at fighting Voldemort, he had wanted to give the boy a chance to fulfil that fateful prophecy made so many years before.

For years, Severus had asked Dumbledore to let him kill Voldemort, and every single time the wizard had told him to wait, had told him that it wasn’t time yet. It had taken Severus a long time to find out about the Horcruxes, and only then did he see a reason behind Dumbledore’s decision; only then did he realize how little would have been won if he had attempted to kill Voldemort before destroying all the Horcruxes, and how much could have been lost.

Dumbledore had known that, like he had known many things, and rarely did he share them with anyone, and now, as he watched Potter block and dodge curse after curse, he wondered if perhaps there was also a reason why Dumbledore had insisted it should be the boy who fought the Dark Lord. He had asked Severus to protect Potter, to teach him, but he had also believed in that prophecy that marked him as the only one who could defeat Lord Voldemort.

No matter how the old wizard had manipulated and used Severus over the years, a part of him still believed in Dumbledore, and it was because of that he decided to give Potter a chance to fulfil his destiny.

Still not sure he was making the right decision, Severus Disillusioned himself, tore his eyes from the battle and focused on his surroundings. If he was going to give the boy a chance, then he had to sure no more Death Eaters would get to him before he could finish what he was meant to do. He could see many witches and wizards fighting on the clearing, but he focused on the group closest to them, the ones that posed the biggest threat.

Not far from where he was standing he saw five Death Eaters in a circle, looming over some Order members. He could see the Death Eaters were talking to the Order members, although he couldn’t hear what they were saying from there. As he started moving closer, one of the Death Eaters took a step forward, raised his wand, and cast the Killing Curse. Before the wizard’s body had hit the ground Severus was running, trying not to make much noise as he got closer, aiming his wand at the Death Eater closest to him and killing him instantly, attracting the others’ attention at the same time.

“Who’s there?” one of the Death Eaters yelled, as they all turned in the direction the attack had come from, looking around, trying to find the source of the curse, but Severus was already running around the group, cursing another one before they could even see him and moving on to the next.

He had a better view of the Order members now, and he saw a few of them were lying down, although he couldn’t tell if they were dead or just unconscious, and from what he could see, they were all unarmed.

As the Death Eaters turned and dispersed, looking for Severus, one of the Order members jumped up and tackled the one closest to him, then reached for a rock and hit him on the head with it, but the sudden movement brought the other two Death Eaters’ attention back to them.

Before Severus could do anything to stop them, one of the Death Eaters turned to the wizard, aiming his wand and casting the Killing Curse, just as the other one turned to the rest of the Order members.

Severus knew he wouldn’t be able to stop them both, so without time to make a better choice, he aimed his wand at the Death Eater closest to where he was standing and fired, but just as he did another curse shot right by him and hit the other one, killing him.

He quickly turned around, trying to see who had cast the curse, and he saw Kingsley running towards them, as fast as his legs would take him, his wand ready as his eyes searched their surroundings, looking for another threat.

There was another Death Eater running behind Kingsley, and Severus realized he wouldn’t see him in time. He saw the masked wizard raise his wand as he ran, and just as he was about to curse Kingsley Severus attacked.

With reflexes that surprised him, he watched the Death Eater block his curse before it reached him, his attention still focused on his target, not even searching for the one attacking him as he ran; then, as he got closer to Kingsley, he cast the Killing Curse with a practiced swirl of his wand.

Severus knew he was still too far away from Kingsley to get him out of the way fast enough, and there was no way to block the curse, so in one fluent motion he activated some of the Order members’ Portkeys, sending the ones that were still alive back to headquartes, and then turned to Kingsley.

Using the most powerful spell he dared, he aimed his wand at the Auror’s feet and fired.

The spell hit the ground just in time, making it explode right before Kingsley, sending him flying a few feet to the side, the Killing Curse barely missing him.

The second he saw Kingsley hadn’t been hit by the curse, his attention went back to the Death Eater, just as he turned to where he was standing. Severus stood still for a moment, waiting to see what the man would do before taking action.

The Death Eater looked hesitant for a moment, as his eyes searched his surroundings, and then he turned away from him. Just as Severus was lifting his wand, ready to kill him, the wizard turned back around, aimed his wand at exactly the spot where Severus was standing and fired.

Surprised by the sudden attack, Severus barely managed to block the curse, staggering a few feet backwards, and the Death Eater’s cold laughter told him he had just given his position away.

“Who are you? Show yourself!” the Death Eater yelled, and Severus instantly recognized the voice.

“It’s me, Lestrange,” he yelled back, lifting the Disillusionment Charm. If he openly attacked Rabastan Lestrange, he wouldn’t get away unharmed. He would have to buy himself some time and find another way to kill him.

“Disillusionment Charms under the rain, Snape? You should know better. It took me only a second to spot you there,” Rabastan said, as he removed his mask.

“The charm was good enough to fool those,” Severus replied nonchalantly, nodding his head in the dead Order members’ direction, noticing Rabastan had yet to lower his wand.

“Care to explain why you got in my way just now?” Rabastan asked, pointing at the hole Severus had left on the ground.

“Just thought I’d do you a favour,” he said, with a small shrug.

“A favour?”

“Do you know who that is?” Severus asked, stepping closer to where Kingsley had fallen, careful not to turn his back to Rabastan as he moved.

“He is an Order member,” Rabastan replied briskly, “hence my trying to kill him.”

“Oh, but he’s not just any Order member,” Severus said, moving closer to Kingsley and kicking his wand away. “This one,” he explained, “is also the head of the Auror department. Rennervate!” he said, and watched Kingsley’s eyes slowly flutter open.

“Is that so?” Rabastan asked, a wicked gleam on his eyes as he took a step forward, towering over Kingsley. “Still, I fail to see how you preventing me from killing him qualifies as a favour.”

“I thought perhaps you would like to have some more fun before killing him,” he said, feeling Kingsley’s confused gaze on him. “He is, after all, the one responsible for what happened to your brother and his wife.”

“Interesting,” he said thoughtfully, but Severus saw him tighten his hold on the wand still aimed at his chest. “The curious thing is that you, Severus Snape, never liked my brother, and you despised Bellatrix, so why would you care about what happened to them, and why would you want to do me a favour?”

“Perhaps you’re not the only one that would enjoy watching him suffer,” he replied after a moment, changing tactics.

“Care to elaborate on that?”

“He has made my job as a spy at the Order quite difficult.”

“Has he now?” he asked, his gaze flicking back to Kingsley for a moment. “The thing is, Severus, that I have known you for many years. If what you are telling me was true, you would have let me kill him and moved on, yet you saved him from my curse, so why don’t you tell me the real reason why you want him alive?”

“I don’t want him alive, but I do not want him dying so easily either. If you know me as well as you say you do, then you should know I do not appreciate others taking what is mine.”

Rabastan looked at him quizzically for a moment, and then turned to Kingsley, understanding dawning on his face after a moment.

“The witch,” he said, and Severus merely nodded. “I was led to believe your relationship with her was just a means to an end. Didn’t you seduce her so you could use her to spy on the Order? Or perhaps there is more between you and that Mudblood.”

“I am surprised you would even consider that possibility,” Severus said, doing his best to sound disgusted at the mere idea. “I do not care about her in the least, but I still don’t appreciate others trying to take what is mine,” he added, turning to Kingsley.

“You treacherous bastard,” Kingsley seethed, and it seemed to be just what Rabastan needed to believe him. “I will kill you!” he yelled to Severus, and both he and Rabastan laughed.

“Do you see now why I wanted him to die slowly?” Severus asked, taking a step closer to the Auror. “I will thoroughly enjoy this,” he said, then aimed his wand at Kingsley. “Crucio!”

Rabastan laughed delightedly as he watched Kingsley writhe in pain, and when he lifted the curse the Death Eater took a step forward, kicking Kingsley on the ribs before aiming his wand at him.

“Crucio,” he said between laughs, and just then Severus turned and yelled, “Avada Kedavra!”

As soon as Rabastan’s body hit the ground Severus turned around, trying to make sure no one had seen him kill the Death Eater. He could hear Kingsley panting on the ground as he tried to recover from the curse, and as soon as his breathing slowed Severus stepped forward, leaned down and offered his hand to the Auror.

Kingsley looked at him for a moment, hesitant, and then he took Severus’ hand and let him help him back to his feet.

“Thanks. For a moment there, I thought you were actually going to kill me,” Kingsley said with a half smile, as he tried to spell the mud off his robes.

“For a moment there, I was,” Severus replied, just loud enough for Kingsley to hear him. Holding back a smirk, he turned around and started walking away.

“Where are you going?”

“To help Potter,” he said, glancing at the dead Order members. “I don’t care what that prophecy said; it’s time for this to end.”

*

She tried to wait like she had promised Severus she would, tried to stay there, wait for him to return, but it was too hard. How could she just stay there, be “safe” when she knew her friends were out there, fighting for their lives, when she knew that perhaps she could do something to help them?

She took the first step forward, telling herself one little step didn’t mean a thing. Her eyes searched the woods, following the direction Severus had taken, and she took another step, then another. What difference did a few steps make, after all? She was still there, where he had left her.

The same excuse worked for the forth and fifth step, and by the time she took the sixth one the first sounds of the battle, faint but still audible, reached her ears. What she had promised Severus didn’t matter any more; they needed her help out there, and she couldn’t wait another minute.

Tightening her hold on her wand she kept walking, letting the sounds guide her to the battle, keeping an eye on her surroundings at the same time, not wanting a Death Eater to catch her unaware again.

She was walking hurriedly now, and after just a few moments she reached the edge of the forest. The sight before her made her freeze in place.

Voldemort was on the other side of the clearing, duelling Harry and Moody, but it wasn’t the fierce battle that caught her attention; it was the bodies scattered all around her.

As much as she wanted to avoid it, she couldn’t stop her gaze from moving from one figure to the next, but she couldn’t recognize any of them from where she was standing.

As if of their own accord, her feet carried her to the figure closest to her, and with a trembling hand she reached forward, touching the body’s shoulder just enough to push it back and see who it was.

She cringed when her gaze fell on the completely disfigured face, but then the arm caught her attention. The sleeve was shredded, and the Dark Mark clearly visible. It wasn’t an Order member, it was a Death Eater.

But the relief she felt was short lived; there were still many more bodies there, and there was no way they would all belong to Death Eaters.

As if in a trance, she moved on to the body next to it. The face didn’t look familiar, but the dead eyes still held a hint of gold in them, and from the look of the werewolf’s hands and arms, it seemed as if it had been him who had disfigured the other Death Eater.

Everything around her seemed to vanish as she moved from one figure to the next. She no longer heard the sounds of the battle or thought of the dangers of her being there, she just looked at one figure, then another, finding more familiar faces than she had expected. There were Aurors there, some she knew from the training sessions at headquarters, others she only recognized by their clothes.

There were civilians there as well, just regular witches and wizards who had joined the Order only weeks before with the same foolish hope they all had in common; the possibility of creating a better world, a better future. Now they all lay there, on the muddy ground under the rain, their eyes vacant, their futures lost.

A part of her was glad she wasn’t one of them, that she was still alive, still fighting, but another part wondered why she had been saved. What made her better than any of them? Why was she still alive and all those others were dead?

The softest of groans broke through the haze in her mind and she froze for a second. She lifted her head, just enough to see around her, expecting to find a group of Death Eaters, but there was no one standing there.

She wondered if perhaps she had imagined it, but then she heard it again, the sound weaker than before. It was coming from one of the figures lying around her, it had to be.

She stood up on shaky legs and held her breath, waiting to hear the sound again. It came from her left.

She ran to the side, slipping a few times before reaching a group of four bodies.

“Hello?” she whispered softly, reaching for each figure in turn, her heart hammering in her chest as she tried to find someone still alive. Then she noticed the head of the witch in front of her move slightly, the movement so small it was a miracle she had seen it.

“Hello, can you hear me?” she asked, crawling next to her. The side of her face was burnt, and when she pushed her back she saw a deep wound on her chest, blood seeping from her body fast. Her skin was cold to the touch, and her heartbeats were faint. She was still alive, but just barely.

Hermione wasn’t sure there was much they could do for her at headquarters, but she had to try, she couldn’t just leave her there. She reached inside the witch’s robes, frantically searching for the Portkey, but it was nowhere to be found.

The sound of her name whispered softly from afar distracted her, and she stopped moving.

“Hermione,” the voice called again, in a pained groan. It was clear the sound wasn’t coming from the witch by her side. “Don’t hel…” she heard next, the voice barely familiar but too soft and weak to be recognizable.

She sat back on her heels and turned her head to the side, trying to see who was talking. Something inside told her it was important. A pained groaned came next, and as she tried to stand and follow the sound the witch lying beside her whispered something, her arm shooting up, her hand wrapped tightly around her wrist, keeping her in place.

“Help,” the woman said in a pained tone, but Hermione didn’t move. She was frozen in place, her gaze glued to the hand holding her down, to the Dark Mark now visible on the witch’s forearm.

The fingers tightened around her wrist, showing a strength she hadn’t thought the wounded woman capable of, nails sinking into her flesh as she was pulled down, and she recoiled, as if she had been burnt. The woman was a Death Eater.

“Kill her.” The same voice from before. “You have to k…” But the phrase was left unfinished.

She stood up, looked into the woman’s eyes, and saw the pain and fear in them. But what could she do?

A part of her screamed inside her mind that she should help her, that it was a human being, and she couldn’t leave her there to die. But the woman was a Death Eater, a witch loyal to Voldemort. She had gone to the woods that night ready and willing to murder her and her friends, and everyone that got in their way. How many people had she killed already?

The logical part of her brain told her that if the situation were reversed, the woman would have killed her already, without hesitation. But could she do the same?

Before she could make a decision she heard her name being called again. Whoever was calling her knew her, and needed her help. She wouldn’t risk someone else’s life by just standing there indecisively. She would find who was calling her and help them. She would not do anything about the Death Eater until them; not harm her, nor help her. If after that the witch was still alive, she would do her best to save her, and then make sure she wouldn’t hurt anyone else. That was the best she could offer in that situation

Having reached a decision, she took a step away from her, ears strained as she tried to hear the voice again, to find where it had come from. Movement caught her eye, and a glimpse was more than enough to tell her who was there. She couldn’t see much of the person that had moved from where she was standing, but there was no mistaking the bubble-gum pink hair.

“Tonks!” she screamed, everything else momentarily forgotten as she ran to the witch and kneeled beside her. Tonks’ eyes were closed, but this close she could hear her laboured breathing. “Tonks, can you hear me?” and the witch nodded just slightly.

Hermione reached forward and touched Tonks’ face. Her skin was so hot it could almost burn her hand. She couldn’t see any wounds on her body, not external at least, but there were dozens of spells or curses that could have caused such a high fever.

She tried a quick Cooling Charm, the first thing that came to mind, and it seemed to help. Her breathing seemed to slow down to a more normal pace, and her eyes opened slowly.

“Hermione,” she whispered, her voice slightly stronger than it had been before. “The witch, she’s a Death Eater.”

“I know, I saw the…”

“You have to stop her,” she interrupted.

“It’s all right, Tonks. She’s hurt, she’s not going anywhere.” Hermione tried to reassure her, but she wasn’t listening.

“She killed them,” she whispered. “She killed them all.” Her eyes fluttered closed again, as if she were too tired to keep them open. The Cooling Charm was starting to wear off, and the temperature was rising again. “You have to kill her or she’ll kill you.” She glanced back at the Death Eater for a moment, and then turned back to Tonks. She had opened her eyes again, and had turned her head to the side, the sorrow in her expression so deep it made Hermione fear what she might see. But still, she followed her gaze and gasped in horror, her face instantly filling with tears.

From where she was kneeling she could see more figures, piled up into some kind of mound, as if they had wanted to keep their killings all together. A few of the figures had their heads turned her way. There was a werewolf among them, his dead eyes still holding a hint of gold, and an Auror she knew from the training sessions. She had always been nice to her, always friendly, smiling. Now there was only his body left, crushed beneath the others. She leaned involuntarily to the side, needing to see who else was there.

She recognized another man, one of the two that had started a fight a few days before at headquarters, and a blond wizard that couldn’t be a day older than she was, although she couldn’t remember having seen him at Hogwarts. What on earth had he been doing there? Then another figure caught her attention, and she felt her hands start to shake. All she could see was a glimpse of red from afar, but that was enough. There was only one family with hair that red.

Tears streaked down her cheeks and mixed with the light rain. She blinked fast, trying to clear her vision, torn between moving closer to see who it was and turning away, afraid of what she might see. As if of their own accord, her legs started to move, pushing her up, trying to get her on her feet, but a hand around her arm stopped her.

“Hermione,” Tonks groaned, her fingers tightening just slightly on her arm, as if she were using the last of her strength to stop her, and the sound of the witch desperately gasping for breath somehow made her tear her eyes from the gory scene. Whatever curse they had cast on her, it was chocking her, killing her. She had to do something.

“We have to get you out of here,” Hermione said, forcing the images she’d just seen away, if only for a moment. She had to focus on Tonks now. She reached inside Tonks’ pocket and searched for the Portkey. It only took her a few seconds to find it, and she quickly pulled it out and slipped the chain around her wrist. She stood up and took a step back.

“They’ll take care of you at headquarters, everything will be all right,” she whispered, trying to sound reassuring. Then she activated the Portkey.

Tonks had only just vanished when the spell hit her. It hadn’t been powerful enough to kill, but it still hurt as hell.

She fell backwards from the force of it and rolled around on the floor, turning to the Death Eater running towards her just in time to react and block the next attack. But the wizard kept running as he shot, and she couldn’t block his attacks and get up at the same time. It only took the man a few moments to reach her.

He was looming over her, throwing curse after curse, weakening her Shield Charm fast, draining her strength. He was about to break through it when a spell hit him, and he staggered a few feet back.

Surprised, Hermione let her gaze flick to the side for a moment, in the direction the spell had come from. McGonagall was standing yards away from her, recognizable even from afar, anger and determination clear on her face. From what she could see, part of her robes were shredded, and a side of her face was covered in blood, but she still stood tall, her wand aimed at the Death Eater’s chest.

She watched the witch move her arm and fire, and the Death Eater did the same. One shot of red light, one shot of green light, flying irrevocably towards one another.

It took barely a second for the curses to cross midway, then they continued their way towards its target. Severus had been right, the Order didn’t stand a chance if they weren’t willing to use the same curses as the Death Eaters did, but now it was too late.

The red light hit first, a powerful Stunning Spell, and the Death Eater dropped to the ground. The next second the Killing Curse hit McGonagall, and she fell.

“No!” Hermione yelled, scrambling to her feet. With tears falling freely down her face as she started running to the other end of the clearing, towards the woman that had been her teacher, her mentor, the woman that had just saved her life, and given up her own in the process.

She had only managed to take a few steps when a large body ran into her, a strong arm wrapping around her waist, yanking her back. She struggled, kicked, anything to get away, to keep running to her, but she wasn’t strong enough.

“Let go of me!” she yelled, but the hold just tightened.

A second arm moved to her shoulder and turned her around, then she was pulled towards the man holding her, arms surrounding her, almost cradling.

“It’s too late,” a voice whispered into her ear, and the arms tightened to stop the struggles. She knew the voice, knew the body holding her. Even through the pain and confusion she knew who it was, and stopped fighting him. “There’s nothing you can do for her,” Severus said, and she leaned against him, feeling defeated. She felt his heart beating wildly against her chest, almost as fast as her own. “If you cross that clearing to get to her, the Dark Lord will see you, and he will kill you.”

“She was just trying to help me, and he killed her,” she said into his chest, her voice weak, broken.

“She did it to save your life. She didn’t want you to die, but if you cross that clearing now, that is exactly what will happen. You need to calm down,” he said, as his fingers ran through her hair, soothing.

“Severus,” someone called. It was a woman, and her voice sounded both weak and angry at the same time.

She felt Severus stiffen slightly, and tilted her head to the side to see the Death Eater she had seen earlier had somehow managed to stand and had her wand aimed at them. Her robes were dripping blood, and there was a deep, large gash on her abdomen, but somehow she still managed to stand almost straight and keep her wand steady.

She had expected to see pain in her expression, weakness, but instead there was only hatred, as if that was the only thing stopping her from falling back down.

“You treacherous bastard,” the witch seethed, and she felt Severus’ arm move around her, his hand tightening around his wand, but trying not to make his movements too obvious.

She tightened her fingers around her wand too, ready to do what she should have done before. She should have killed the Death Eater when she’d had the chance. She hadn’t been able to curse the woman when she was down, and now they could both die because of that.

She realized that was probably one of the main reasons Voldemort’s Death Eaters had gather so much strength in so little time. They were willing to do things any other witch or wizard wouldn’t. They didn’t hesitate to kill, and that gave them enough advantage over the rest of the Wizarding World to defeat them all. It was a war, and there was no room for mercy. She wouldn’t make the same mistake twice.

The witch’s lips parted, and at the same time she stepped away from Severus, both wands aimed at the Death Eater, but before any of them could fire, a shot of green light came from the side and hit the witch. Before they knew what was happening, the witch was dead.

They both turned in the direction the killing curse had come from, and they saw Kingsley running towards them, wand still in front of him as he moved.

“There’s a group of Death Eaters coming,” he said, as he reached them. “We only have a few moments before they get here.” Then his eyes turned to her, a look of concern on his face as he looked her up and down. She didn’t even want to imagine what she might look like. “Are you all right?” he asked. She just nodded in response. “Thanks for the help,” she said, and he smiled at her.

A loud bang startled them all, and they turned to the clearing just in time to see the ground around Voldemort explode, a curtain of white smoke hiding him from view for a few seconds. When the air cleared, they saw Mad Eye Moody lying on the ground, surrounded by blood.

They saw Voldemort turn to Harry then, and fire another curse. She could see Harry’s surprised expression even from afar, see him lift his arms over his head, as if trying to cover himself, wandless, defenceless. But Voldemort’s curse didn’t reach him. It hit an invisible barrier inches away from his body, magic dissipating as soon as it reached the shield.

Voldemort roared in anger, sending another curse, and then another, all stopped by the shield while Harry searched for his wand.

It took her a few moments to feel the power around her, and she turned, confused, to find Severus’ arm raised, his wand aimed at Harry, his face strained with the effort of trying to make the protection hold long enough.

Loud voices startled her, and she looked at Kingsley.

“They’re here,” he said, but he wasn’t talking to her.

“Can you hold them back?” Severus asked.

“There’s too many of them; I won’t be able to buy you much time.”

“Call for back up, then. Just hold them back.”

“If I do that the Death Eaters will know exactly where we are.”

“Do it,” Severus said. Kingsley hesitated for a moment, then, with a sigh, he raised his wand, red sparks shooting into the stormy sky.

Severus looked at her for a moment, hesitant, as if trying to decide where she would be safer, then said, “Stay with him and help him hold the Death Eaters back until more Order members come. Then get out of here.” Without giving her time to reply, he spoke to Kingsley. “Hold them back and keep her safe. I have to go help Potter.” Without another word, he turned around and ran into the clearing.

*

As Severus ran, Voldemort managed to break through the shield. He could see Potter had finally found his wand and was lifting it against the Dark Lord, but even from afar Severus could feel the fight had drained the boy’s power, and so could Voldemort. With a wicked gleam, the wizard took a step back.

Severus stopped running and started moving closer more cautiously. Voldemort hadn’t seen him yet, there was no need to make his presence known before time and lose the element of surprise.

“Well, well, well,” Voldemort said, taking another small step back and throwing a minor curse at Potter. He could tell it wasn’t a powerful one, and let the boy deflect it himself. The Dark Lord was playing with him, and while he was distracted Severus could move closer.

“It seems it’s just you and me now, Harry,” Voldemort said, deflecting Potter’s half-hearted attack. The boy was still trying to recover some of his strength. “I told you it would come to this,” he said. “Now most of your friends are dead, and it is just a matter of time before the rest of you join them. Was fighting me really worth all this?”

Potter didn’t reply, instead he tried to attack again.

“You are too weak to hurt me,” Voldemort said, sounding pleased. “Give up now, and your death will be quick.”

Potter shook his head. Voldemort’s eyes gleamed, as if that was the answer he had been hoping for.

“Crucio,” he said, in a low, menacing tone. The curse hit Potter and he screamed in pain.

Severus stepped closer, standing right behind Voldemort, but before he could interfere the curse was lifted, and Voldemort took a step to the side. Severus moved again, before he could be spotted. He had to wait for the right moment, catch the Dark Lord unaware. It was his only chance.

Voldemort aimed his wand at Potter again, and the boy froze in place. Then his body was lifted a few feet from the ground, arms and legs spread wide. The wizard made the boy float to the left, and then, with a quick twist of his wrist, he sent him flying backwards towards the woods. There was a tree a few yards behind Potter, its branches wide, pointing in every direction, and suddenly Severus realized what Voldemort was trying to do. If he didn’t do something to stop him, Potter would be impaled by the tree.

As fast as he could move, he ran to the side and closer to the boy, and shot a spell of his own at him, hitting the boy from a different angle, moving his floating body just enough to the left before he reached the tree.

The second Voldemort felt Severus’ magic, he dropped the boy and turned to him, shooting a curse as he moved. Severus blocked the curse and turned to face him. He could see the surprise on Voldemort’s expression, along with a hatred he had never seen before.

“You,” Voldemort seethed, his eyes shining ruby, the air thickening with rage. Severus said nothing. “After all these years, you betray me?”

“I have not been loyal to you for a very long time,” he said, his eyes fixed on Voldemort’s. He would not attack yet, he would wait until the wizard made the first move.

“Then what they told me was true; you betrayed your Master for the Order of the Phoenix. But I know you, Severus Snape. I know you better than you know yourself. You are a wizard of the dark, always have been. You are more like me than you imagine. What did the old wizard do to you to make you join him? What did he promise you?” he asked, a hint of curiosity in his tone.

Severus was about to reply when he heard screams coming from the woods, and saw a few witches and wizards backing away from the trees. He thought of Hermione, wondered if she was safe, but then pushed those thoughts away and focused once more on Voldemort, who was moving his wand in a series of complicated twirls and flicks until suddenly they were surrounded by a bright green mist, a shield isolating them from the exterior, the magic so thick it even kept the rain away.

“Let us make sure no one interrupts us,” Voldemort said, his wand aimed at Severus once again. “So, you were about to tell me what they did to make you turn your back on me,” Voldemort said, almost conversationally.

“They did nothing. I made that decision on my own.”

“Do not even try it, boy,” Voldemort suddenly said, his eyes still on Severus but his attention elsewhere.

“Afraid I might use dirty tactics and attack you from behind your back?” Potter said, stepping away from the trees and walking to them with a slight limp.

“Oh, no, the Order of the Phoenix is above such dirty tactics,” Voldemort said, his tone mocking, but he took a small step to the side, so he could watch them both at the same time. “Severus here was about to explain to me the reasons behind his betrayal; I have the feeling you will be as interested in this as I am, Harry.”

“I don’t care why he betrayed you, I just care that he’s on our side,” Potter said, but Severus still saw him glance sideways at him, unsure he really was on their side. Hadn’t he proven himself enough times?

“You said you have not been loyal to me for a long time. How long, exactly, Severus?” he asked, curiosity clear in his voice.

“Why is that important?” Severus asked, tightening his hold on the wand. The Dark Lord was a powerful wizard, and probably a little overconfident, but he knew Severus would be a dangerous adversary, and Potter had proven to be able to handle himself well enough. Voldemort would try to play them against each other and get an advantage over them. He never did like fair fights, and wouldn’t willingly risk losing to them both.

“Could it be, perhaps, that you turned to the light shortly before my first encounter with Harry, all these years ago?” Severus didn’t reply, and a triumphant contorted Voldemort’s face. “You betrayed me for her, did you not?”

“What are you talking about?” Harry asked, but Voldemort ignored him.

"Does Harry know you are responsible for his parents’ deaths? That the jealousy you felt towards his father is what made you turn to me? It was the information you provided that sentenced her to death, why turn on me because of that?”

“You said you would spare her,” Severus said, the hatred and anger long buried reaching back to the surface.

“And I might have. I even gave her the chance to live that night. All she had to do was move out of the way, but she didn’t. If you don’t believe me, you can ask Harry. He was there at the time, after all.”

“What’s going on?” Potter asked, confused. His wand was still aimed at Voldemort, but his gaze kept darting from him to Severus.

“Didn’t you know, Harry, of your mother’s relationship with Severus?”

“What?”

“A Mudblood, Severus,” Voldemort said, taking a small step closer to them. Both wands followed his movement, and he stopped with a small smile. “You are one of the most powerful wizards I have met, or could be, and that is certainly saying something. With me, you could become much more than you are,” he said, his tone soft, tempting with the promise of power. It didn’t fool him for a second, and Voldemort saw it. “There is power inside of you, Severus, a dark power that could make you great, and you gave all that up for a filthy Mudblood?”

Voldemort’s efforts weren’t directed at him any more; he was taunting Potter, trying to distract him, or even make the boy turn on him instead. Severus hoped the boy showed more self control than he usually did.

“You see, Harry, Severus here fancied himself in love with your mother,” Voldemort said. “But she thought herself too pure, too good for him. It is ironic, how she was the reason Severus turned on me, and the reason he betrayed me.”

“Is your plan keeping us here all night? Talk until you bore us all to death?” Potter snapped, angrily.

“Where are your manners, boy? Didn’t your mother teach you better than that?” he asked, then smirked. “I guess not.”

Potter didn’t reply, but his anger was so powerful Severus could feel it in the air. They stood silent for a few moments, none of them willing to make the first move. He heard noises around them, felt the magic shake as someone tried to break through the green mist that surrounded them. No one would be able to get through it unless Voldemort allowed them to, and he wouldn’t. They were isolated, alone.

“You did your job well, Severus. I must admit that,” he said, sounding calm, his face blank. You kept me fooled for a long time. Still, betraying me is one thing, but protecting Harry? He is a living reminder of what you couldn’t have, a reminder of the witch you wanted, and the wizard she chose.”

Severus tightened his hold on his wand, but didn’t respond. He knew Voldemort well enough, and he wouldn’t let his words affect him. He knew better than that.

“And you let him stand by your side,” Voldemort said, turning to Harry. “You are willing to fight beside him after all he did to you, to your family?” Potter kept his eyes on Voldemort, but Severus could tell his self control was slipping away. “After seeing for yourself how he betrayed me, what makes you think he won’t betray you too?” The boy hesitated for a moment, his gaze darting to him. Severus couldn’t fight Voldemort and protect Potter at the same time. He needed the boy to fend for himself, calm enough to think. If he waited more, Voldemort might confuse him enough to make him turn on him for real. He had to act fast.

“After years of pretending, I think I have heard enough,” Severus said, taking a step forward, drawing Voldemort’s attention to himself. “Let us settle this at last.”

“You cannot kill me, Severus. After all the years you spent as a Death Eater, you should know that. Even if you managed to harm me tonight, which I doubt, I would recover. If you killed this body, I would still return. I would provide myself with a new body, like I did before. I am beyond death, Severus. You cannot defeat me,” he said, a certainty in his tone that almost made Severus smile. “You know that too, Harry,” Voldemort said, turning to the boy. “There is no point in fighting, it will only…”

“The diary,” Severus said, interrupting Voldemort. “The ring, the locket,” he added slowly, watching Voldemort turn to him. “The cup, the diadem,” he said, and Voldemort’s eyes shone crimson again. He kept his tone calm, almost taunting. It seemed to be working. “They have all been destroyed.”

“You lie,” Voldemort said. He was trying to control his anger, to appear confident, but Severus could see through the mask. He could see the uncertainty behind his words, a shadow of doubt, perhaps even fear.

Voldemort looked at him for another second, then suddenly turned back around, facing Potter, ready to attack.

“Nagini.” The word was spoken softly, calmly, but it made Voldemort freeze mid-motion.

It was one thing to take risks when you knew you couldn’t really die, when you were tied to the living, and another when you knew losing would mean death for real.

Voldemort’s eyes darted from him to Potter for a moment, trying to decide on the best course of action.

“Severus,” he finally said, after a moment, “you are a dark wizard, and you know it. Above everything else you yearn for power, and I can give you that. Kill the boy now, and I will forgive your betrayal. You will be my second in command. I will show you powers you never even dreamed of.

Well, he had to admit, the Dark Lord was nothing if not practical. He couldn’t fight them both without taking risks, so he would try to turn them against each other.

“I think not,” Severus said, pulling his robes open and slowly unsheathing the long sword he had taken from Draco earlier in the woods before sending him to the Order. Voldemort’s gaze darted to the sword, and then back to Severus.

“You seem very intent on keeping Harry alive,” he said. “If you try to attack me, he will be the first to go.” Severus merely shrugged.

“What is the matter, Harry, is our little conversation not interesting enough for you?” Voldemort asked. Potter’s gaze return to them, but it was too late. Voldemort knew something else had caught his attention.

The wizard turned to where Potter had been staring, and after a second a triumphant smile contorted his lips. Before Severus could do anything to stop him, Voldemort lifted his free hand, and a body came flying through the mist and towards them, so fast it was little more than a blur of movement.

“Now what do we have here,” Voldemort said, stopping the flying figure right in front of him. It was Hermione.

Her terrified eyes turned to Severus as she was placed between him and Voldemort. She was frozen in place, unable to move a muscle. A perfect shield.

“You look worried, Severus,” Voldemort said, his voice soft as silk. “It cannot possibly be because of her, now can it?”

“Leave her out of this,” Potter yelled, angrily, the last of his self-control al but lost.

“It is not I that has brought her into this, Harry. It is all Severus’ doing,” he said, his eyes never leaving Severus. “You do seem to have a thing for Mudbloods. I must admit I am surprised. After what happened to the last Mudblood that caught your interest, I thought you would have learnt your lesson. I guess I will have to kill this one, as well. I have to say, though, that the redhead was certainly more attractive,” he said, then laughed loudly when he saw Harry’s confused expression. “Didn’t you know, boy?”

Severus felt Potter’s eyes on him, but he ignored it. “What does she have to do with anything?” he asked, trying to keep his voice calm.

“Does Harry not know about you and his little friend?” Voldemort asked, turning to Harry. “My, my, Severus, you cannot take every woman from his life without him knowing. Severus here seduced your friend to gain the Order’s trust back, after killing Dumbledore for me.”

Severus felt Potter’s accusing glare on him, but he kept his eyes on Hermione. How would he get her out of there in one piece?

“But it wasn’t just that, was it Severus?” Voldemort asked, but he knew he was really talking to Potter. “You used her, yes, but I believe there is more.” Voldemort watched him in silence for a few seconds, and when he spoke again, there was curiosity in his voice. “What is it with you and Mudbloods? You could have any witch you wanted, even if they didn’t want you back, and yet you keep choosing filth, you keep risking yourself for Mudbloods. Did you believe this one would replace the once you lost?” he asked. “Or perhaps there is more to her than meets the eye,” he continued, when Severus didn’t reply. “There has to be something special about this one. Not only did she manage to trap you, she also made Draco Malfoy betray me. Perhaps I should let her live, and take her with me after I am done here. I would like to find out exactly how special she is.”

“Leave her out of this,” Severus said, his voice low, calm. Potter seemed to be too shocked for words.

“How badly do you hate me, Severus? How badly do you want to see me dead?” he asked, and Severus had no idea where this was going.

“I won’t let you hurt her,” Potter suddenly said, angling his wand and firing. Voldemort deflected the curse and shot one of his own, pushing Potter back, making him fall against the closest trees. His wand had fallen somewhere among the trees.

He had kept Hermione between them the entire time, using her as a shield, and there had been nothing Severus could do to stop his attack on Potter without risking her. That didn’t go unnoticed by Voldemort.

“Not long ago, you were willing to risk your life for that boy,” he said, thoughtfully, “and yet you did not help him now, and wasted the chance to attack me only because she was between us. I never would have thought you would do something like that, Severus. The Order of the Phoenix has certainly been a bad influence.

He said, nothing, but tightened his hold on his wand, his grip so tight his fingers had turned white. Voldemort was right, he should have attacked when he had the chance, but he couldn’t do it with Hermione in the way. What was wrong with him? There were more important things at stake than her, or him.

“I have a little theory I would like to put to test,” Voldemort said, thoughtfully, evil dripping from every word.

“What theory?” he asked, barely keeping the anger from his voice. He didn’t want to know, but that wouldn’t stop Voldemort from saying what he wanted to say.

“I wonder exactly how much you care about this little witch here.” Severus didn’t speak, he just stared at him, waiting for him to continue. Whatever Voldemort was planning, it couldn’t be good. He could hear Potter moving around, searching for his wand, and he wished he could just summon it for him, but he couldn’t turn away from Voldemort, not even for a second. He just hoped the boy would find it, and fast.

“You always seemed to value your life above all else, Severus. You always did whatever you had to do to protect yourself, to stay alive. We are much alike, in that way. But now you have made me wonder whether you value her life more than you value your own.

“And how would you put that theory to test?” he asked, although he had a feeling he already knew the answer.

“Easy, Severus, you will show me yourself. I will let you choose,” he said. “Two curses, and enough time to deflect one. Which one will it be?” he asked.

With a speed that surprised even him, Voldemort moved his wand and did exactly what he had told him he would. He moved Hermione’s body to the side, and then fired a curse at each of them.

Severus saw Hermione’s eyes widen as the Freezing Charm was lifted, but she didn’t have enough time to react. There were only seconds for him to make a decision, or they would both die. He knew that no matter what he chose, it would be a mistake, but there would be no regret. He looked at her and saw her looking back at him. There were tears in her eyes as she shook her head, silently asking him not to save her. Severus closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and chose her.

*

Hermione watched, helpless, as the curse flew towards her. Everything seemed to vanish from sight as the curse came closer, its light almost blinding her. She knew another curse was moving towards Severus at the same time, and all she could do was hope he would use the little time she had to save himself.

She knew that with Severus alive, they still held a chance to defeat Voldemort. She wasn’t good enough to do it on her own, but Severus was. Of course, that wasn’t the reason why she wanted him to live, not really. Even when so much was at stake, she could only worry about him. She wanted him to survive, wanted him to be free of Voldemort at last, free to live his own life, even if it wasn’t with her.

But as the light was about to reach her she felt a wall of invisible magic materialize in front of her, the shield so powerful that Voldemort’s curse crashed into it and vanished.

She screamed and fell to her knees, the realization of what had just happened, of what Severus had done, breaking her heart. Her body was frozen again, but this time it wasn’t magic keeping her still, it was the pain. She just couldn’t bring herself to move.

Her gaze darted to the side, to where Severus had been standing only seconds before. The sword was lying there on the ground, next to his wand, but Severus wasn’t there anymore. There was a trail of fire that led to the forest, trees uprooted and burning down the path Severus had been thrown.

Then Voldemort’s laughter broke the silence, and hatred deeper than she had ever felt took over her.

In one fast motion she turned and stood up, rage guiding her every move. She ran to Voldemort, aimed her wand at him and shot. He deflected the curse easily, still laughing. She fired again, and again he deflected it. But she didn’t stop running. She just kept moving, and before he knew what was happening, she had ran into him as fast as her legs would take her. He hadn’t been expecting a physical attack, at least not from her, and he stumbled backwards, surprised, but when she tried to turn her wand and curse him again he hit her arm hard, making her drop her wand.

But she wasn’t thinking, she was just acting, and losing her wand didn’t stop her. Her hands reached for his face, her nails sank into his skin, and he was startled, his reaction a second too slow. He groaned in pain when her knee connected with his groin, but then his unbelievably strong fingers wrapped around her neck, and she tried to pull away from him. His cold hand kept her at arms length, keeping himself out of reach. Her feet were dangling a few inches from the ground, using her own weight to strangle her.

Her hands flew to his, trying to rip his fingers from her neck, but his hold on her was as firm as iron. The world started spinning around her, her body going weak from the lack of oxygen. All she could hear was his cold laugh as he tightened his grip, all she could see clearly were his gleaming red eyes.

Then a voice broke through the haze, giving her a ray of hope.

“Accio sword,” she heard Harry yell. His hand was stretched outwards, but he wasn’t holding his wand.

And yet she felt the magic around her, heard the sword swish midair as it flew towards them, saw it sink into Voldemort’s back.

Voldemort’s hold tightened for a second, his eyes wide with surprise, and then blinding light shone through his skin, spreading outwards, covering everything around her.

Voldemort screamed in pain, and the light coming from him turned red. She felt the fingers on her neck burn into her skin, and she fought to free herself. His grip loosened, all strength lost, and she fell to the ground, crawling away from him as the heat in the air threatened to burn everything it touched.

And then, with one last pained scream, Voldemort’s entire body was swallowed by the light with an explosion that made the very ground beneath her shake.

Then, as suddenly as it had started, it stopped, and darkness covered everything.

*

Harry was kneeling beside her, shaking her shoulders. He was calling her name, but his voice sounded so faint, so far away. She blinked a few times, letting her eyes adjust to the dim light, and Harry’s face came into focus.

He was talking to her, but she couldn’t make out the sounds. All she knew was that he looked worried.

There was something strange on her face, almost tickling. It took her a few moments to realize what it was. Rain was still falling, warm, cleansing.

Slowly, the rest of the world came back into focus, new voices reaching her ears. And pain, she could feel pain.

Everything hurt, and at the same time, nothing did. It was something abstract, as if the pain was just her imagination. Like something inside her had broken.

There was also physical pain, a burning sensation still lingering in her neck, and she reached her hand to touch it, but Harry stopped her.

“Don’t touch it,” he said, his voice sounding closer than before. He pointed his wand at her neck and muttered something, and she felt the burning faint, replaced by a strange tingling of magic.

“What happened?”

“He’s gone,” Harry said, his tone flat, as if he couldn’t believe it yet.

She tried to sit up, but she didn’t feel strong enough.

“Don’t move, I’ll…we’ll send you back to headquarters.”

She shook her head and tried to sit again, and the world went back to spinning. What the hell had happened to her?

“Help me up,” she said, reaching up to Harry. He hesitated for a moment, then carefully pulled her up to her feet.

She looked around. She was still standing in the clearing, although now she was in the centre of a circle of burnt grass that seemed to go on for yards. There were figures lying on the ground, and people running between them. Some of the trees around them were on fire, and there were wizards here and there, trying to put the fire out without much success.

“He’s gone,” Harry said again, his hand still holding hers tightly. “It’s over.”

“What happened here?”

“I didn’t see much. After the sword…” he hesitated. “After it happened, his body started shining, and then there was some kind of explosion. Most of the Death Eaters that were still here burst into flames, but not all. The ones that didn’t burn are gone. They escaped as soon as the Anti-Apparition wards fell.

“Severus,” she whispered, searching the clearing for him. Little had registered in her mind after Harry said the Death Eaters had burned to death. Had Voldemort’s curse killed him? And if not, had the flames consumed him alive, killed him in such a cruel, painful way? “Where is he?” she muttered to herself, but Harry was standing right next to her.

“What is it?” he asked, a hint of anger in his tone. “Why do you care about him?” But she didn’t listen, didn’t care that he was speaking. Nothing mattered to her anymore. Just the thought of Severus being dead consumed the last bits of strength she had left. She couldn’t move, couldn’t talk, couldn’t hear. All she knew were the memories of their time together, the images that kept flashing through her mind.

She felt Harry’s hand let go of hers, felt him walk away to the other witches and wizards, probably to help them. She knew she had lost many friends, she had seen many of them die right in front of her, but those losses were a dull pain compared to the loss of Severus.

It took her a few moments to realize she had started walking. Her feet were taking her away from the clearing, and even though she wasn’t in control of the movements, she knew where her body was taking her. Down the path Voldemort’s curse had thrown Severus. She had to know for certain, had to see it for herself. Whatever had happened to him, she needed to know it.

The grass on the ground was burnt in an almost perfect line, leading her deep into the woods, and she followed it without a glance back.

She found more bodies along the way, but a quick glance told her none of them were Severus, and she kept walking.

Suddenly she heard a rustle of leaves, someone moving, and a voice, soft, barely audible, and she hurried her step. She felt a tingle of magic in the air, and then heard a pained groan. She walked faster, and the voices grew clearer. She stopped.

There were two wizards there. One was standing, facing her and helping the other wizard to his feet. The first wizard was Remus. The second one had his back to her, his figure almost hidden as he leaned weakly against a tree. She didn’t need to see his face to recognize him. It was Severus.

Time seemed to stop as she stood there. Remus saw her first, and he froze in place, surprised. Then Severus followed Remus’ gaze and slowly turned, and her knees bucked beneath her as she saw him.

His eyes met hers, and he seemed as relieved to see she was alive as she was to have found him. She stepped forward, her eyes on him as she moved, until she was standing inches from him.

Most of his robes were burnt away, but the skin beneath looked smooth, unharmed. Her gaze travelled down his arm; the Dark Mark was still there, in a way, but now it was just a pink line, like an old scar, that still held the same shape as before.

She reached her hand forward, fingers trailing the new lines, and he let her. She could feel his gaze on her, but he didn’t react or speak; he just watched her.

“He’s really gone,” she said, looking up into his eyes.

“He is.”

“I thought you were dead.”

“I would be, if Lupin hadn’t found me.”

She turned around, but Remus was gone.

“You shouldn’t have let him curse you,” she said softly. He looked at her in silence for a moment, then took a step back.

“You should return to your friends.”

“Why?”

“The Dark Lord is dead. I am free of him now, and so are you. We don’t have to pretend to be together anymore.” She should have been angry at his words, or hurt, but something in his eyes stopped those feelings.

“After all these years, you are free of him at last,” she said, her eyes searching his for a hint of what he really felt. “You can be free of me, too, if that’s what you want.”

“You shouldn’t be with me,” he said. “You have your entire life ahead of you. You could do anything you wanted.”

“What if this is what I want?” she asked, moving closer.

“It’s not.”

“I’ll leave if that’s what you want.”

“The Death Eaters that survived will come after me, you would be in danger,” he said. It sounded as if he were trying very hard to find reasons to push her away. She wouldn’t give up so easily. “It would be…”

She didn’t let him finish. She grasped the front of his robes and pulled him to her, and he didn’t stop her. She kissed him softly at first, tentatively, but then he wrapped his arms around her, deepening the kiss, and she felt her body melt into his. After everything that had happened, just being in his arms made her feel safe.

An eternity later, or so it felt to her, he pulled back, and his fingers tilted her head so that she was looking up at him. The rain was still falling on them, washing away the blood, the fears, the doubts. As she looked up into his eyes, she knew she had made the right decision. She wanted to be with him. At that moment, after everything that had happened, that was all she cared about.

Without saying a word, he took her wand from her hand and used it to summon his own wand from the clearing. Then he took a Portkey from his pocket, and tapped it with the wand. It shone bright for a moment, and she knew he had just changed its destination.

He reached his hand out to her, the Portkey lying on his palm in a silent offer. He watched her calmly, gave her a chance to change her mind, but she held his gaze and smiled.

She leaned forward and kissed him again, then pressed her hand to his, and let the Portkey take them away.

She didn’t know where the object would take them, but she didn’t care, as long as he was with her.