Breaking Free

Disclaimer: J.K.R. owns these characters, and I'm just using them.

Thanks go to my beta and friend, NotSoSaintly. I offer her hugs and liquor for taking the time to beta this story even though she doesn't care for the plot.

I am waiting for you to finish with Minerva. It seems that she's taken a bad turn as of late and has been losing energy again. Once you are finished, I have things to tell you...things concerning Potter. Over the past week, I have been secretly meeting with him, and he's reluctantly agreed to personally see to it that I do not spend a day in Azkaban for my past deeds. You see... I've much to bargain with. I told him about my three guests and how I've been secretly keeping the three of you alive under the pretense of needing assistance and servants.

He's quite gullible and always has been. Oh, he loathes me more than anything, but the hope of seeing you again has rejuvenated him and has given him something more to fight for. You will probably wonder why I've done such a thing after all this time. It's quite simple. Things have changed where my Lord is concerned. He's getting madder and weaker by the day. How many times have you had to heal my wounds or tend to me lately? Too many. Someone has to do something, and from what I've seen in your mind and heard in the past from Dumbledore, it has to be Potter that does it.

Therefore, it is truly for myself that I do this. I have developed a will to live and am tired of following one who knows not how to treat those loyal to him. I have told Potter that he will not see the three of you until after things are finished and after my future is secure. As I watch you, I feel my heartbeat quicken, and I am uncertain why. Perhaps it is not only for myself that I am doing this. Minerva deserves the chance that St. Mungo's can give her. Poppy, though she talks now, is looking dreadful these days. And you, my dear Hermione... you deserve better than being cooped up in a home for all your days. Your once healthy coloring, shining hair, hopeful eyes, and soft smiles have diminished. You are wasting away. I can only wonder if it is lack of sunlight. I've been good to you...providing food, shelter, activity, and even pleasure.

A part of me says that it is my fault for taking advantage of things, but I know that you are stronger than that. That can't be it. You are unlike me. While I am content in staying at home, you feel the need to mingle and be about. I can understand that and understand why you are not happy here. Soon, you will be free.

As you turn and face me, I crook my finger. "Come," I say quietly, extending a hand to you. I lead you to the room that we now share and close the door behind us. "How is she?" I ask as I toe off my boots and socks.

"She's better today. I wonder if she's not simply gotten used to the potions after all this time. Perhaps a stronger dosage would help?" you offer, looking up into my eyes hopefully.

"What does Poppy say?"

I see you grimace. "Nothing of importance."

There is friction between the two of you and has been for a couple of months. I am uncertain about what happened, but I imagine it has something to do with me. I believe that Poppy is jealous of the nature of our relationship. In fact, I know that has to be it. She didn't start speaking again until we began sharing a room. I see the glares she sends your way, and I see the smiles she flashes at me. This is amusing to me. She should know that I'd never want anything to do with her.

"Hermione, if you feel that we should give her a little more, then I must agree. The last time this happened, the increase did help." I shrug out of my robes and begin unfastening my shirt. "If we see no change in a week, then we will know that the ingredients need altering."

"All right," you reply and slowly pull off your shoes.

I sit down on the edge of our bed and think of the words that I want to say to you. Finally, I find them. "Our time together is drawing to a close." You look at me, and I see the fear in your eyes. "At some point this week, Potter will take on the Dark Lord, and hopefully, he will win. I've told him that once the threat is vanquished, the three of you will be able to venture out into the world again...not needing my protection any longer."

Tears well in your eyes, and your face contorts. I watch in fascination as you bring your hands up to cover your face and attempt to weep silently. I cannot bear to see you in such a state, so I pull you to me and rub your back. This enables you to sob loudly. Damn.

"Get it out," I whisper. "It will be all right. You need to be away from here. I think a bit of sunlight would do you well."

As your tears subside, I finish undressing you, summoning a dressing gown to place over you. When you look at me with such appreciation in your eyes, it makes me want to please you even further, but I fear that I cannot. Not this evening. I have things to plan. Tucking you into bed, I watch as you fall into a troubled sleep. It is then that I realize you hadn't said a word to me. How do you feel? Why were you crying? Do you not want to leave? Was it relief that Potter would win?

I fight down the possessiveness that I feel. I once vowed... Actually, I've often vowed that I'd never let you go, but I think that time has now passed. It would be best if you got out, nurtured yourself back to health, and then, once you are ready, come back to me where you belong. I'll be waiting for you of course. I've no place else to be and no one else that I want to see. I don't love you. No. Never that. I am simply comfortable with you and see no reason to search out anyone else and take the time to learn her as well as I've learned you. There are things that I have to write and instructions that I must leave...should anything happen to me.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Professor Snape, you have to tell me where she is," Potter says, clutching me closer.

I can make out his face, but it's quite blurry. What is that ruddy coppery taste? I try to move my hand up to wipe my mouth, as something sticky is pooling on my chin, and groan in pain.

"Where is she, sir? Please?" he asks again, losing some of his patience, though his words are respectful. "We had a deal! Don't let her die!"

Who the hell is he going on about? That's when I see it...a vision of you reaching out for help. Hermione. "Sh-she's..." The sound of my voice scares me. Why does it sound so strained? Why am I drifting between numbness and pain? It then hits me that I am dying. Potter wants to know her location so that she doesn't suffer the same fate. He doesn't know that I took precautions to make certain she'd be found... if I should ever die.

"Yes?" he prods.

"My home... Spinner's End... last house... number twenty," I finally manage. I see the nod of his head, but everything suddenly turns black. He's telling someone to bring me to St. Mungo's and to be certain I'm not moved from there until he gets back to me. I want to tell him that it's too late for me. I can feel the coldness creeping into my body in hopes of stealing away the last bit of warmth and life. I grope until I feel the fabric of his robes, disregarding the new sparks of pain flowing through my arm. "My desk... locked... parchment... for Hermione..."

"All right, Snape. I'll find it."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I can feel a warm palm on my cheek and try to open my eyes. The light hurts, and I can only make out a dark blob for the second or two that I can actually see. I feel completely numb and have no idea if my mouth or tongue will even move to allow me to form the words I need to say. For I know that it is you who has come to see me. I can smell your scent. You smell of the soap and shampoo that I made for you.

"Hermi..."

"Ssshh," you say quietly. "Don't speak."

I know that I will never again have a chance to say what I need to say. The words flowing through my mind are likely the only reason I've held on for as long as I have. Now that you are here, I can say them and find peace.

"I n-need to... to say..." When I feel your free hand grip one of mine, I muster the strength to continue. "So sorry... everything."

"I know," you whisper. "I read the letter. Ssshh."

"How's he doing?" someone asks.

It sounds like Potter. I'm passed caring that he is about, although part of me wonders if he is secretly gloating by being able to witness my demise and steal my last private moments with you.

Hermione. Your name echoes throughout my mind. Have you forgiven me? Would you have stayed with me? Would you have come back to me after tasting freedom? I believe it to be so, and I feel something lift from my chest. I am no longer carrying a burden.

"I'll be out in a minute, Harry," you say, dismissing him. A moment later, the hand on my face brushes back my hair.

I attempt to smile, but I am uncertain if I've managed it or not. I don't know how I can feel your touch, for I can't even feel my legs or most of my body. Am I still breathing?

"Severus, I read your letter."

Didn't you just tell me that? Had I imagined it?

"I forgive you. Be at peace."

Those are the most beautiful words that I've ever heard. I open my eyes again and fight to keep them open whether the light is stinging them or not. For a few moments, I can clearly see your distraught, tear-streaked face. How could I have never thought you attractive? I close my eyes, satisfied with the last sight I'll ever see.

I shouldn't have fucked you.

I shouldn't have touched you.

I was wrong.

I took advantage of you.

I deserve this.

I pretended that you wanted what I did just to ease my conscience.

You forgive me.

Yes, I feel that a burden has been lifted from me, but what of the burden you still carry?

Is it gone? Are you truly free?

Hermione.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I, Severus S. Snape, resident of number twenty, Spinner's End, being of sound mind and disposing memory, do hereby declare this instrument to be my last will and testament, hereby revoking any and all wills and codicils by me at any time heretofore made.

Signed: Poppy P. Pomfrey

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"I'm going to bed, Harry," you say quietly.

"All right. I won't be long. I'm going to finish up in here," I reply, smiling as you yawn and stretch. It's been nearly a year since I found you at Snape's home, and things are finally getting back to normal for us.

As you leave the room, I notice that you've left your book behind. I can see a parchment sticking out, and I recognize it as the letter Snape left for you. You never did offer to let me read it. I can only imagine that it was some love letter, for you seemed to take his death quite hard, though you never want to talk about your relationship with him. I suppose that people deal with grief in their own ways. Minerva and Poppy more or less confirmed that you and he were together, and I know that most of your things were in his bedroom.

No matter. That's the past. I am your future. Although I hate that someone like him found a place in your heart, it didn't take long for me to realize that I want to spend my life with you once you came back into my life again. Over the months, I have attempted to get you to open up and realize that love doesn't have to die with Snape or with Ron and that you can find it again with me. I promised you I'd always be here for you, and I'd wait for you until you were ready...no matter how long it will take.

Each time we kissed, I felt your passion simmering below the surface, but you never let me feel it completely for a long time. If I went too far and touched you, you simply shied away from me or cried. I learned to stop and keep my hands to myself. The payoff for my patience and the love that I feel for you has been great. A couple of weeks ago, you finally came to me. I heard the soft knock on my door and knew that you were ready the moment you stepped into my room.

That night you unleashed all of your feelings...hurt, anger, elation, fear, and sadness. Since that night, I've been working on making you the happiest woman alive. I notice that you tend to get frigid if I act too aggressive or randy, but if I let you take the lead, things progress nicely enough.

Curiosity is getting the better of me. I want to know what his letter says. I move over to the couch and pick up your book. I open it and pick up the parchment for a read.

Hermione,

If you are reading this letter, then I've met a most unfortunate demise. I want you to know that I've left everything I have to you. I bid you to do with it what you will. It doesn't amount to all that much, but you'll find enough to keep you going for a long while. There are things that I feel I should say. I am uncertain where to start. I've just dressed you in your dressing gown and tucked you away into our bed. I watched you sleep for a long while before gathering the courage to write this. I fear if I don't write it now, I may never do so, and I'd hate to meet my demise without you ever knowing...

I stop reading. I can't do it. This is your business and your past. You will tell me about your life with Snape and the relationship that the two of you shared when you are ready. For now, I am simply concerned with our future. Learning to live again is a challenge for the both of us, but we can do it together. No matter how much you loved Ron or Snape, and no matter how much I loved Ginny, you'll always be my Hermione while I'm simply your Harry.

Southern's Notes: I'm going to leave it like this. I know this was a hard story to read, but I do appreciate those of you who have read it and reviewed. It's been great to get this out in the open.

As far as Snape's note, I'd like you to simply imagine what it said. In my mind, he's apologizing for the wrongs he committed. Someone who took advantage of me apologized to me, too, and while I appreciated the courage it took for him to apologize to me all those years later (I was an adult by then. He's quite lucky my father never found out), I will never forget the things that happened. It forever changed me.

Hermione's new relationship with Harry is plausible in this story (they only have each other). I think she just needed time to realize that Snape was no longer there and couldn't touch her or force her to do anything she didn't want to do. She simply needed to understand that Harry would never be like that with her. As far as Harry's thinking that she was in a loving relationship with Snape, I'd say that's also conceivable on his part. He is simply mistaking her tears and unwillingness to get intimate for a period of grief for her lover. Is she grieving for Snape or dealing with her feelings now that she is free? That's up for you to decide.

I know I was pretty messed up mentally for a while. I'm always suspicious. I do not trust people, and that does include family members and close friends. I still have certain moods that I go through. Sometimes I'm quite prudish (really), and other times... well, if you've read my other stuff, you know I write some heated scenes. I guess it all depends. It's just something that takes a long time to get over...if ever.