To Live

Many thanks go to astopperindeath for her excellent beta skills.

"You have them all? What does that mean?"

"We are out of time. I need you to rest more and make sure you eat plenty of food. Your body is terribly drained."

The second chime rang out, and we both found ourselves by the door. Severus took me gently in his arms and kissed the top of my head.

"I will be back."

"But I have more questions!" I blurted out.

The corners of his mouth quirked up, and his eyes seemed to be filled with amusement.

"Of course you do. But now is not the time."

I was too tired to argue and reached up to catch his face to kiss.

"Thank you, Severus. However, you cannot keep running to my rescue. It would look too suspicious if it were to happen again. If I get hurt, I will live."

He pulled back from me, and his face was flushed with anger. He clenched his jaw and gave me a nod.

"You are right, of course. But do try to stay out of trouble; that is all I ask."

"Of course, Severus."

I felt him shiver when I said his name, just a quick shudder that raced across his shoulders and chased away down his body.

He pulled me in and gave me a searing kiss on the lips. He said no more as he changed his appearance to a dumpy, squat, older man. He dropped his wards and left.

I didn't have to wait long to get answers to my questions.

I slept most of the day, still sore and slow to move. When I got up, I had to fend off concerned questions from the other girls and even Ma. They were suspicious of my quick recovery, having heard how the house-elf had popped in and whisked me, battered and bloody, out of the Brown Room.

"I'm fine. Ma's potions fixed me right up."

"But what about your client?" asked Angel. "He didn't..."

"No, he was just a strange little man with a fetish for the Princess. He didn't do much, though he did clean me up a bit."

Peaches, bless her, steered the conversation away from me, and I was left in peace until I was called to the foyer early that evening.

This time, Severus's appearance was that of a tall, broad shouldered young man. I noticed he didn't have that faint glimmer that came with a charm, but the intensity of his watery blue gaze was the same.

Together, we ascended the stairs to 'our room.'

Once inside, I waited for him to set his wards, set out his magical talismans and change his appearance. I had a fleeting moment of worry when he did not change and took an involuntary step back when he approached me.

"Polyjuice," he explained. "I didn't want to risk coming again so soon in a glamour. It will wear off in about forty minutes." He flicked his wand and changed my attire to a soft, oversized robe.

"Ah, you needn't worry about that. Most of the men who come here, besides the Death Eaters, wear a glamour."

"Better to be safe. Have you eaten well today?" he asked. I looked down at the carpeting when I realized that I really hadn't. He scowled at me and flicked an impatient hand at the food on the table. I went over and made up a plate but stopped when I heard his irritated growl. He stomped over and plucked the small cakes I had put on the plate away and started to pile up thick, roast beef sandwiches.

"Eat." I ate.

He pulled out his little black bag of potions and enlarged it and started to arrange various vials on the table in front of me. He poured a large glass of water and handed it to me and then started to dose me with some of the most foul potions I had ever tasted.

"Guh!" I dropped the Vitamin Infusion vial back on the table and gulped the water. "You made these especially vile just to get back at me, didn't you?"

"Don't be thick, woman, I made them especially potent for you."

"Oh." I gave his words a moment's thought. "You brewed these today?"

"Of course."

"Did you ever sleep?"

It was his turn to look at the carpeting.

"I don't sleep much anymore, Hermione."

I took his hand and stroked the back of it with my thumb. It was a large, clumsy looking hand, not my Severus's hand at all. I stood up and pulled him up with me.

"Come to bed, Severus."

He balked, but I tugged him hard, and he followed. The man needed sleep. His hand started to squirm in mine, and I huffed and tugged his hand again to let him know I wasn't giving him a choice in the matter. I heard a sharp gasp and looked quickly back at him to see his features shift, his face looked like there were small animals scurrying about under his skin. I shuddered and looked away until I felt his long, strong, graceful hand in mine again. I looked up into his fathomless, black eyes and felt my heart thump painfully in my chest.

"You have questions," he said.

"I know." I reached the bed and pushed him gently down to sit on the edge. "Tell me what you need to." I settled down on the floor and started to work off his boots and socks. "Tell me again of the five years, Severus. Tell me of the Deathly Hallows. Tell me everything." I came up and started to work through the buttons on his robes. There was nothing erotic in the act. I simply needed to make him comfortable, and he was strangely compliant under my hands. As I removed layers of clothing, he told me his tale.

He spoke of the desperate days when he was the Headmaster. His colleagues were suspicious and hateful towards him and did everything they could to make sure little things, like class schedules, were fouled to the point that he had to rewrite them all himself. Even the house-elves, ever faithful to the school, made sure his tea was always cold or the milk spoilt. His loneliness was unrelenting; the only people who sought out his company were the sadistic Carrow siblings. The only faces that looked at him with respect were the Slytherin students, proud of his status. Only the portrait of Dumbledore, hanging behind his desk, kept him from utter despair.

There was no warning, no accompanying build-up before that final summons. The Carrows had rushed off to answer the summons, telling Snape they would explain his own delay. That he was being called to the final act of the greatest tragedy of their age was so far out of his mind that he almost missed the entire battle because he was meeting with the School Board. He had no idea that Malfoy was dead. No idea that an unsuspecting Potter had been lured to his doom by the false thoughts that Voldemort had planted in his head. No idea that his two friends, usually so adept at herding him away from foolish notions, had been so compromised by their own exposure to the tainted soul captured in the Horcrux.

"I must go now, Albus," he had said to the portrait.

"Very well, my boy. Keep your head, keep your cover. I'll let you know how to deal with Umbridge's suggestions after I have given them some thought."

"That would be appreciated."

"Off you go, mustn't keep Tom waiting."

Tom hadn't bothered waiting.

Finally answering the Dark Lord's call, Severus had Apparated into Hell.

He had grabbed Selwyn by the arm and received a hurried explanation of events and then turned in time to see Lupin and new wife Apparate into the chaos. Greyback took out Nymphadora by ripping her throat out only to be cut to pieces by Lupin, in a last act of futile rage. Severus clung to his sanity as he tried in vain to shield whomever he could, but the members of the Order arrived either alone or in pairs and were too quickly overwhelmed. He tried to conjure a Patronus of his own to warn off any others, but his shocked mind could not muster a happy thought, and so he failed.

Before he barely had a chance to process what was happening, it was over. Potter was dead, his body scattered in gruesome pieces on the ground. The bodies of various Weasleys were scattered everywhere, but the remains of the youngest boy were right behind Potter, and like Potter, he looked as if he had been blown apart. Just beyond him, covered in gore, lay the body of the Granger girl, whole, but still as death. Severus doubled over and retched on the ground.

"I knew you never had the heart for it, Snape. You always were weak."

"Don't be stupid, Macnair; it was just a reaction to a hex, I assure you."

"Funny, no one else seems to be affected. But then, you were never very strong; perhaps we all got hit with it, but it only affects the pathetic."

"Leave off, Macnair," said Rabastan Lestrange. "Our Lord wants Snape for a special mission. You are to regroup with the others."

"As you say, Lestrange."

Severus Snape clung to one thought as he Apparated to Malfoy Manor: Keep your head, keep your cover. It was something Dumbledore used to say before his every meeting with the Dark Lord. A ritual between the two that reminded Severus of his duty and that expressed the Headmaster's concern for his spy's wellbeing at the same time.

"I want you to live," he heard his mentor say in his mind. Severus measured his options and knew he needed to keep his cover and survive long enough to get back to the school and organize the faculty so they could evacuate. He had to save who he could; if he showed his hand now, there would be no one to protect the others. Dumbledore had drilled him for years on what his ultimate priorities were. To stay as deep undercover as possible until either the Light triumphed or all hope was lost.

His face was a mask of honest fury as he approached the two guards outside the library with Bellatrix and Rabastan on his tail. Watching them shrink away from the sight of him was no balm.

"They are inside?"

"Yes, not a peep out of them."

"They have been disarmed?"

The unsure glances were all he needed as he threw open the doors.

"Godfather? What's going on?" Keep your head, keep your cover.

"Severus! Why are we here? We were told to stay in this room hours ago and have not even heard from Lucius." I want you to live.

"Accio wands!" he thundered. Keep your head, keep your cover.

"What's the meaning of this? I demand to see my husband! Bella! I demand..."

"You are in no position to make any demands, sister. Your pretty husband cannot protect you anymore. Now, tell us what we want to know, Cissy, and I am sure our Lord will be merciful."

The Dark Lord wasn't merciful. Draco and Narcissa Malfoy died screaming, and a part of Severus Snape did as well. I want you to live.

It was hours before Snape had a chance to leave the Manor and get back to the school. The loud pops of Apparition alerted him to the arrival of several dozen Death Eaters into the foyer of Malfoy Manor.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't the coward. Too bad you missed the show, Snape. Again."

"What are you talking about, Macnair? I have no time for your foolishness; I have things to see to."

"Why, I speak of the utter destruction of the Ministry and your precious school! We have utterly vanquished our foes! We rule it all, and anyone who opposed us is dead or soon to be! Once again, we do all the work and you hide. Always was your sty---"

Macnair didn't get to finish his hateful words as Snape unleashed his churning emotions in an act of fury that Macnair only survived due to the arrival and timely intervention of the Dark Lord himself. Snape's act was excused as justified since he was defending himself from slander.

As Severus told of his return to Hogwarts, he started to rock slightly in short jerky spasms. I pulled the duvet down and slid into the bed, pulling his unresisting body along with me until he was in my arms, his body cradled between my legs. I adjusted the pillows until I was almost sitting up, my smaller body surrounding his larger one as best as I could. I stroked his hair and planted soft kisses on his head as I crooned meaningless words and rocked him gently.

His voice was rough with emotion as he described the destruction. The pyres of bodies were still smoking. The hallways were silent but not peaceful. Everywhere he looked, there was destruction; the floors were littered with debris. Statues were destroyed, armor lay in scattered pieces and the burnt remains of portraits were scattered everywhere. He broke into a run as he made his way to the Headmaster's office. The gargoyle was pitched over on the floor and he leaped over broken pieces of pedestal and sprinted up the stairs. There he found total destruction. The portraits had all been incinerated. The instruments left behind by Dumbledore were scattered in pieces around the room. Books and scrolls were so much ash. A quick check of his own quarters showed that only the landscape painting had been ruined, but his personal belongings had been rifled through and lay scattered about.

He repeatedly called for a house-elf and eventually an inebriated Winky appeared. He tried to reassure the belligerently drunk elf and eventually got enough information to confirm his sad conclusions. There were no survivors, except those Pureblood students who had a Death Eater to vouch for them.

The faculty had fought bravely, trying to lower the anti-Apparition charms, but without the Headmaster, they failed. The teachers had staged a violent last stand trying to distract the Death Eaters, while the students made a break for the forest. The elf didn't know if any made it, but every last teacher died to protect them.

Winky told him that the ghosts were hiding and those portraits that had anywhere else to go had fled; those that did not were gone forever.

Snape suddenly turned on the elf.

"You are still beholden to this school. Do not forget that! Repair what you can!"

He turned on his heel and ran back down the stairs.

It was a frantic Snape that raced into an empty courtroom down in the bowels of the Ministry. He pulled out his wand and, with a violent jerk, a large chair slid up against the wall under the portrait of a past Supreme Mugwump. He vaulted the rail and scrambled up onto the chair and reached up to snatch the portrait off the wall.

"Severus! I am so glad you are still alive! Oh, my boy! Well done!"

He let go of the frame and pulled a small painting out of his robes. Tapping it with his wand, he enlarged the framed portrait of a gaunt woman with dark hair and a long face. He slapped it against the wall next to the other painting. Dust flew up when it impacted the wall.

"Headmaster! Come into my frame! Quickly!" cried the portrait of Eileen Prince Snape.

"I cannot; they hexed the portraits to confine them to their frames."

Severus let out a string of oaths while he shrank his mother's portrait and shoved it back into his pocket.

"So you couldn't get away."

With a feral growl, he attacked Dumbledore's frame again.

"Severus, listen, I have things to tell you," Dumbledore said.

"Tell me!" Severus listened but still tugged at the portrait, bracing one foot against the wall and committing all his weight to the pull.

"Stop, my boy! It won't come off!

"No! They are coming to destroy you as we speak! Do you have another portrait anywhere?"

"No, Severus. This is my last."

Severus pulled out a sharp knife and tried to score the picture around the edges of the frame. Try as he might, he couldn't cut the painting out of the frame.

"Then I must save you! I need you! I need your counsel!"

"Then you must listen!"

"I failed, Albus! I failed them all! I have to save you!" Backing away, he started to shoot every spell he could think of to release the painting from the wall.

"Severus, I failed, do not blame yourself! But you can still redeem my failures! Listen to me!"

Severus listened with tears streaming down his face as the portrait of Albus Dumbledore explained about the Deathly Hallows and the Horcruxes and how to defeat Tom Riddle.

"You will have to search long and hard, Severus. The locations have been lost for many of these items, and, in the end, I did not think that was the real locket after all. It did not have the taint. For some reason, someone went to a lot of trouble to switch the Horcrux, but I did not have enough time to investigate further, and we don't know if Harry found anything more about it before the end. You must start there; you must pick up the trail where Harry left off."

"I don't think I can do this Albus. I am all alone."

"You are never alone, Severus. Help will come when you are ready, my son."

"Lily's son is dead," he said softly, his voice full of agony and despair.

"I know."

"Everyone is dead."

"Hope never dies, Severus." The stamping of boots outside made Severus lunge toward the portrait again. His fingers frantically scrabbling at the frame.

"Stop Severus! Keep your head! Keep your cover!"

Severus's agony and frustration came out in a muted gurgle as he looked daggers at the portrait. He raised his wand, disillusioned himself and hid under the bench just as the doors to the courtroom flew open.

"There he is," came the voice of Dolohov. "Any last words, old man?"

"Go find a nice campsite and when you run out of hope, hope."

"Eh? What's that supposed to mean?"

"Dunno."

"Who cares. Incendio!"

Hiding under the desk, arms locked around his knees, Severus watched until the portrait fell to ashes and drifted onto the carpet.

The next five years were spent hunting. Day in and day out, Snape searched for the pieces necessary to ensure his final revenge. He found the campsite after an exhaustive search in the countryside. He had needed to find a personal possession of one of them first for the locator spell to get their scent. He had used Granger's essays from when she had been his student. When he found their tent, he packed it all and took it with him back to Spinner's End. He found Potter's invisibility cloak and hid it in the wall of his cellar along with the wand he had retrieved from Albus's tomb. Searching Hermione's beaded bag reunited him with the portrait of Phineas Black. The two were almost pathetically happy to find each other. It was from Phineas that he found out that Potter wore the snitch around his neck. He returned to the Burrow and sifted through the charred remains that had been left behind until he found the burnt mokeskin bag, now devoid of its magic. Opening it revealed the snitch -- open now, since Potter had met his end -- and the ring nestled inside. He placed them in hiding as well.

He searched for the Horcruxes as well, during that time. Months of research would result in wild goose chases, only to run into dead ends. I rocked him again as he told of being confronted by the vengeful ghost of Minerva McGonagall at Hogwarts the first time he went looking for the diadem. How even though she could not harm him physically, she chased him through the castle screaming the names of all the students slain, never pausing to hear his words. It had taken him three years to find it. Three years of being harassed and tormented by the ghost of a woman he had considered a friend.

Finally, he was out of options. His research had run dry, he was out of clues and out of ideas. He had done all he could do, but no research would reveal the location of the Locket or the Cup. He was at the end of his tether, physically, mentally and emotionally spent, when his hope and his luck ran out. He ran into Rookwood in the Apothecary. His search had kept him out of the loop, and he had no clue about internal Death Eater politics anymore. Rookwood was surprised at his appearance and suddenly curious about his long absence. His offer to come along for some drinks and relaxation contained too much suspicion for Severus' comfort. Severus perceived a threat to his mission's safety if he was to incur too much scrutiny, so he decided a few drinks would do no harm. He was not prepared to be thrown into the lion's den to become the subject of everyone's curiosity.

"Hermione, I do not know if I can ever convey the feelings I had when you appeared at my side that night."

He turned around in my arms and curled his own around my waist.

"I think I have an idea, Severus," I said quietly.

"I am so close now. Just a few more details to be seen to, a few more pieces to put into play, and vengeance will be ours. It seems such a short span of time since I despaired of even the slightest success."

"I understand. That same short span of time ago, I was dead inside. My heart was a dark, diseased place, and hope was a lie not even to be entertained." Shifting so that I could meet his eyes, I continued. "Severus, I didn't intervene in your defense out of any Gryffindor nobility. I wondered if perhaps I could gain something if you owed me a debt."

"As a Slytherin, I find nothing wrong with that sentiment." He smirked, and it brought a chuckle to my throat.

"I think it is time for sleep now." I shifted until I was out from behind him and curled my body along his side and draped my arm over his chest.

"Sleep now, my Severus."

He pulled me tight to his body, and I felt his deep shuddering breath and watched over him as he slowly relaxed. I listened to him breath throughout that night as I replayed the story of his life in my head. Each time his arm would spasm and clutch me tight, I would stroke him and place little kisses along his chest until he returned to a more peaceful sleep.

In my own selfish despair, I thought only the other inhabitants of this house could understand the pain and suffering I had been through since the Battle of the Burrow. But here, sleeping in my arms was yet another victim. Whereas I had become resigned to my fate, a passive participant in only vicarious self-destruction, he had been chained to his, lashed ever onward by the demons of honor and duty.

For the first time, I felt justified in claiming him as my own. Surely there were women of better caliber out there in his future, but how many of them would understand the depths he had gone to, the vigil he had held all alone, to preserve even the tiniest flicker of light in our dark world. I pillowed my head in the hollow between his shoulder and chest, and, as I closed my own eyes, I made my own quiet vow. If we won our freedom and vanquished that darkness, I would spend my life finding ways to bring him peace and contentment.