Later....

Later…

“You will have to teach me. You are a hard taskmaster, but as you once told me, a diamond can only be formed through high pressure. You call me an ‘annoying little know-it-all’.”

“When do my feelings change?”

“I can only tell you when I recognized a change in your behaviour. That was in my sixth year. One night you came back from a summoning. You were badly hurt, and I managed to get you into the dungeons and alert Albus and Poppy. Well, you didn’t really thank me. If I recall correctly, you called me a ‘silly little girl’ and fainted – but you gave me what I desired most at that time.”

“My undying love and a child?”

Now it was her turn to snort dryly. “Nope. A pass to the Restricted Section of the library.”

Severus couldn’t help but laugh.

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Hermione looked out of the window, lost in thought. “You know, we spent a lot of time in there together. We didn’t talk much, but sometimes, you just handed me a tome I needed that added a special point of view to my research, or you slipped me an article of Ars Alchemia. And you were always there when I needed you. When… certain events… left me in need of comfort, you sat next to me, never touching, but always there.”

His voice was hoarse when he asked, “And when did you fall in love with me?”

Hermione studied his face lovingly and answered with carefully chosen words. “I didn’t ‘fall’ in love with you. I grew into it quite naturally. I couldn’t not love you. But there was a moment when the possibility occurred to me that you might love me too.”

He reached for her hand and kissed it. “Let me guess, it was in the library?”

Hermione commenced talking. “I was in need of a special Potions volume that was rarely needed and high on the shelves. There was no ladder so I took a stool and went for it. And then I saw another interesting one just a little bit to the left. Well, being on top of the stool, I was too lazy to climb down. I extended my hand and tried to reach it when the old stool shifted to the side. I was in danger of falling just as your strong arms caught me and helped me to straighten up. You didn’t let go. You looked into my eyes, and for the first time I saw something deeper.”

“You know I can’t!” he breathed.

“And I won’t,” she replied.

Later that evening your owl brought me a friendship ring. It looked like the fashionable silly ones the other girls wore, but this one,” she raised her hand to show him, “is platinum with an anti-lose and anti-theft spell, like the family crest. Whenever I drop it, it returns to you and reveals my destination to you. If ever someone were to take it from me, the thief would be transported to your feet. You asked me to wear it for the moment, and I began to consider the possibility of changing it into a marriage band someday, like you suggested.”

His eyes searched her hand but didn’t find another ring. Searching her gaze, his eyes opened in question. She smiled and looked deeply into his eyes.

“… I instantly slipped the ring on my finger, and I refused to change it for another one. This is my marriage band.”

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“So you know that I am a Death Eater.” It wasn’t a question; it was a statement.

“I know you WERE a Death Eater,” Hermione emphasized.

“You just don’t quit being a Death Eater, Hermione, and if he really returns, he will demand my service. I still don’t know why Albus gave me shelter when I confessed my sins to him. Voldemort’s demise was quite fortunate, for I couldn’t have endured spying on him any longer. I was shaken by the cruelty and the deaths all around me – between friends and foes alike. Albus didn’t ask me to sever my connections. I think he considers them a possible asset in times to come, perhaps to get early access should a possible successor of the Dark Lord gain power.”

His fingers trailed the outlines of the Dark Mark. “How can I return to his side?”

She sighed. “You know I can’t give you too many details.” She pondered a moment about how to answer his question. “Some of the Death Eaters have gone into hiding, haven’t they? Many others pretending to have been forced to join under an Imperius. Since the Dark Marks on their arms haven’t vanished, they think a return of the Dark Lord is imminent, that his spirit has survived and he will recover to rule again?”

“Will he?”

“He will TRY!”

“Then why should I join him, if he does recover? If he is to regain power and possibly win, how can I be standing at his side?” he asked stubbornly, playing devil’s advocate.

“You and everyone who bears the Dark Mark will be enslaved to his will. Once you were willing to take the Dark Mark for yourself out of desire for company, for power and for knowledge – but you didn’t get any. You couldn’t trust anyone because Death Eaters sell each other’s hides to rise in the Lord’s favour. Voldemort doesn’t share power and for that reason keeps his secrets and his knowledge to himself. I know for certain that with your intelligence and expertise you can win a place in his inner circle. You can pass information and protect your future.”

He listened carefully to her words. “And I have one?” he couldn’t resist asking, if only to hear her declare her love once again.

But this time she rose and stepped to him. She gently took his hand, cast a short spell on it and placed it on her stomach so that he could feel an ever so slight wriggling of a baby in its mother’s womb.

“More than one,” she whispered softly.