Sixteen: Buy A Dream and Hide Away

Anti-Litigation Charm: None of the characters belong to me. They belong to JK Rowling, who let my entire reason for reading the Harry Potter series bleed to death on the floor of the Shrieking Shack. I'm building a better world.

Into the stars and always up, drinking from a broken cup whose golden gleam is fading fast, praying that it has not passed into tomorrow...

Severus looked down at the ring on his left hand. It was a narrow, platinum band, without decoration of any kind. He recognised it immediately: it was among the personal effects given to Hermione at the funeral home. Her father's wedding band. It fit Severus' ring finger as if made for him.

Severus stared at the ring for at least a minute. His mind appeared to have shut down at Hermione's question, "Will you marry me?" He was so unnerved he could neither accept nor decline. Breathing in and out seemed to be the extent of what his brain was willing to coordinate at this moment.

Hermione watched him with growing dismay. She was not exactly sure what she expected his reaction to her proposal to be, but staring into space was not it. The longer he sat there, blinking in shocked silence at the sight of her father's ring sitting snugly on his finger, the surer Hermione was that Severus was going to reject her proposal.

It had never occurred to her that he would say no. Of all the scenarios going through her head on the way down to his chambers, a rejection was not on the list.

She placed a trembling hand on his arm. Lightly, she said, "Severus? I know it's a little unusual for a woman to propose to a man, but it is customary when one's hand is requested in marriage to respond one way or the other."

Her voice snapped Severus out of his stunned stupor, and he turned and looked at Hermione as if he'd just come out of a trance. Softly, he said, "What in Merlin's name do you think you're playing at?"

Recoiling slightly, Hermione said, "I'm asking you to marry me." She gave him an uncertain smile.

Severus closed his eyes and shook his head. Stupidly, he said, "Are you mad, witch? In the midst of all of this, you want to plan a wedding?"

Hermione huffed, and hauled herself off the stone floor. She sat down beside him on the bed. "No, you daft man! We don't have time for that!" She looked into his eyes closely. "Are you sure you're fully awake from the Dreamless Sleep?"

Severus shook his head, and looked down at the ring again. "Perhaps I'm still a little confused." He looked into her eyes. "Hermione, what exactly is happening here? I feel as if I'm in a dream."

Hermione laughed shakily. "I suppose I did rather spring it on you, didn't I?"

Severus shrugged. "Putting a ring on my finger and asking me to marry you is a dirty great spring, is it not?"

Hermione laughed again. "I suppose it is, but I've had all afternoon to come up with this plan, and I think I've done it." She produced the large leather pouch the headmaster had given her. As Severus opened the bag to inspect its contents, Hermione explained, "This is a wedding present to us, of sorts."

"From?"

"Dumbledore. Now, I have completed all the documentation that we need. All I need is for you to Confund the registrar into believing that we've been there earlier in the month to start the paperwork, and that you were there seven days ago to finalise it."

Severus gave his head a shake, as if to clear it. "Sorry – Hermione, would you please stop babbling and start from the beginning? Why did Dumbledore give us a bag of galleons as a wedding present? We started the paperwork last month for what? Confund the registrar into believing we've been where? This is making no sense, Lass. Where is where?"

Hermione smiled. "Gretna Green."

Severus paced up and down in his bedchambers, as Hermione told him her plan for the third time. He was frantically trying to pierce holes in it, to find the chink in the armour of it. He could not. It was completely sound.

It was not that the idea of being married to Hermione was unsavoury. Quite the opposite: he just could not fathom why she'd want to marry him. Dumbledore's latest stunt had set his hard-won hope back so far he couldn't see any point. He was slated to kill Dumbledore. If they were married, Hermione would be seen as an accessory to the deed. He himself was slated to be killed in the war, and Hermione would become a pariah.

"I can't allow that to happen."

"What?" Hermione said, stopping in midsentence. "Can't allow what to happen?"

Severus crossed the room to sit next to her. "I can't allow you to be remembered as 'the traitor's widow'! You are one of the so-called 'Golden Trio'! One of Harry Potter's best friends! You cannot throw away your life by marrying me!"

Hermione made a soft growl of frustration. "Listen to me –"

He turned on her. "I've listened! Your little scheme is madness manifested! Now, you will listen to me, witch!"

Bemused, Hermione watched him resume his pacing. Running a shaking hand through his oily hair, Severus said, "Do you have any idea how dangerous this is for you – for both of us? The Dark Lord will find out, and use you like a whip over my head! Not to mention the purebloods like Malfoy and Bellatrix! They'll eat you for dinner, little one!

"I'm supposed to take the life of the closest thing to a father I've ever known because he has named me his murderer, just as the Dark Lord named Potter as his. All the pieces must fall in the right order or the game is lost!"

Hermione jumped to her feet. "This is not a game, Severus! That's Dumbledore talking! It does not have to be that way. We can either be masters of our own destiny, or slaves to it! We can do this, but you have to trust me." Her voice softened. "You have to live." Her eyes blazed. "I can keep you safe as my husband, but not as my lover."

Severus looked at his witch, and he felt his resolve crumbling. The plan was flawless. The logic was sound. Every twisting, turning, backstabbing piece of it was perfectly placed, perfectly timed. It could work. And in the end, they could escape. Far away, where no one could find them. A hideaway ...

Fear. Fear was the catalyst to his hesitation. It always had been. Next to this courageous witch, with her unshakable faith in him, he was the worst sort of sniveling coward. Severus believed with all his heart that, in his rather long list of character flaws, cowardice was the worst, and the one he most hated to acknowledge.

Cowardice had been his downfall. He had nursed it, cradled it to his bosom, and protected it, so that he could flagellate himself with it, when faced with situations like the one before him now.

He took her in his arms. "Hermione, I beg you to give this more serious consideration. Not for my sake, but for yours. What will happen to you when I –"

Severus gasped as his Dark Mark suddenly flared to life. They broke apart. "Oh, gods, this bastard's timing!" he moaned, and struck the table in frustration. "I have to go! I have to, lass!" he looked at her entreatingly.

Hermione stood, panting, sweat popping out from her forehead. Her hand felt as if nails were being driven through it. She looked at her smooth, unblemished palm, and held her wrist. Tears of pain sprang into her eyes. "Is this how it feels?" she moaned.

He took her hand in his, as if he could physically draw the pain away. "I'm sorry! I had no idea you would feel it through the blood oath!"

Hermione shook her head. "I know you didn't! Of course, you have to go now," she said, running to his room to fetch his robes and the hideous mask. Periodically, the pain would swell, until it was almost unbearable. If it was this excruciating to her, how much more so must it be to him?

As Severus shrugged on the hated Death Eater robe, a bright flash of light burst into the room. A silvery Patronus, in the form of a delicate leopard, followed in the wake of the light. It gracefully crossed the room to speak to Severus. Hermione was stunned to hear the clipped, imperious tones of Narcissa Malfoy issue from its mouth.

"Severus, I have been requested by the Dark Lord to ask you bring your ... companion, Miss Granger. He wishes to see you both. Today's is to be a private meeting."

Severus barely missed a beat. When he spoke, his voice sounded silky and bored. "Thank you, Narcissa. We will see you shortly."

The Patronus vanished, and the two of them looked at one another, horrified. Hermione was stunned. "Severus, why would he want me to come with you?"

Severus shook his head. "I don't know, lass. We have no choice but to obey him. We'll go and tell Albus, and –"

He looked at her suddenly, his eyes dark and luminous. Softly, he said, "Come here, witch." He drew her into his arms, and plundered her mouth, his lips urgent and demanding. He kissed her passionately, as if claiming her. He grasped the back of her head, and penetrated her tender mouth, forcing his tongue deeply into the warm, moist haven. She responded wildly, with a feral moan, and flicked her tongue over the roof of his mouth, and he answered her with a growl of passion.

They fused together, and Severus pressed against her, pulling her off her feet, their bodies hot and needy, devouring one another. Severus whimpered against her soft, warm tongue, frantically trying to draw the flavour of her into his mouth, to remember, and be comforted. She tasted of tea and tears, and their tongues danced and twined.

Severus' kisses were passionate and breathtaking, and his demanding mouth left her gasping and mewling helplessly. Hermione, her hands clutching at his body, was mapping his very being, committing him to memory, tasting, touching, in case –

Severus broke away from his witch, and his eyes mirrored the fear that Hermione felt in her heart.

"Hermione –" He paused, breathing hard, his mind blank with fear. "Lass, I don't know if we'll – "

Hermione pressed against him, and they held each other until they could hardly breathe. "It will be well, Severus," she said, shivering, trying to believe it.

Severus kissed her forehead, her cheeks, her eyes. She was so frightened, and it moved Severus that she was trying to be brave. Severus knew he had to pull himself together or they would both be lost. Her fear strengthened his resolve. He had to be strong, to protect his witch.

"Hermione," he warned, "focus. We have trained every day for this very contingency. We can survive this." He pulled away and took her head in his hands, his obsidian eyes blazing into hers. "And when we walk away from him tonight, Hermione," he said, kissing her gently, "I will take you to Gretna Green, my brave girl. I will be honoured to be your husband."

Hermione looked up into the face of this imposing, aloof man, and gave a deep sigh of happiness. She leaned against him. "I love you. Remember that, no matter what happens. We will survive. We will be married." She felt his lips against her hair, and she breathed in his clean, comforting scent.

Severus closed his eyes and focused inward. For a few stolen moments, he went through scenario after scenario in his mind. Then he looked down at his witch. "I think I know what to do. It is a terrible risk, but I believe we can do this."

As Severus walked Hermione up the path to the remote manor that served as the Dark Lord's secret abode, he was struck by her absolute trust in him, and despite her terror. He could sense her tremendous fear through their blood oath scar. Yet her mind was fully, obliquely occluded; try as he might, he could not winkle in through the tiniest crack. Good girl, he thought. Her courage stiffened his spine, and he felt calm stealing over him.

He held her hand as they walked up the steps and through the door, which was held open by that odious rat, Peter Pettigrew. The little rodent of a wizard gaped at Hermione, but Severus swept past him as if he were nothing more than a bit of rubbish on the floor. Hermione followed suit. Once inside, Severus released Hermione's hand, and grasped her by the back of the neck, to convey his dominance and her submission.

Hermione could hear Wormtail, Ron's former pet, scuttling behind them, but she held her head high, remembering Severus' instructions on the way.

"Do not speak unless spoken to," he had said, "and choose your words carefully. Don't be cowed by the Death Eaters; be very humble to the Dark Lord, but not toadying. You'll see enough of that to know what not to do."

Approaching the Sanctum Sanctorum of Voldemort's lair, Hermione realised she might very well be walking to her death. Her chin lifted imperceptibly. If she were going to die, she wanted to show these pure-bloods how it was done. She was a powerful witch. She was loved. She would protect her mate. Reading her thoughts, Severus gave the back of her neck a little reassuring caress.

At the antechamber of the Dark Lord's receiving room, Hermione saw Narcissa Malfoy and her sister, Bellatrix Lestrange, standing to one side, talking desultorily. The last time Narcissa Malfoy had been in her presence, she'd looked at Hermione as if she were dog muck. It had been during Hermione's fourth year at Hogwarts; it seemed like a lifetime ago.

Hermione regarded the older woman carefully. She had to admit that Narcissa was honestly the only pure-blood witch who'd ever made Hermione feel inferior. Her beauty and her natural grace seemed like an entitlement. Next to Narcissa's cool, blonde patrician poise, Hermione felt like a drab, lumpy mutt.

Bellatrix Lestrange, on the other hand, was the polar opposite of Narcissa. It confounded Hermione that the two women were sisters; they hardly looked as if they could be related at all. As dark as her sister was light, Bellatrix seemed to Hermione to be the embodiment of Dark magic. Bella was laughing the last time Hermione had seen her; laughing, as Sirius Black fell through the veil at the Department of Mysteries.

Bellatrix's lidded, dark eyes narrowed further when she recognised Hermione, and she preened as she approached Severus, her walk sultry, her body language insolent and overly familiar.

"Severus! How kind of you to bring us your pet to play with," she cooed, and her voice reminded Hermione of biting on aluminium foil. Bellatrix pressed her body against Severus, and ran a long-nailed finger over his buttoned coat. "Yum, yum. Mudblood on the menu tonight. Hungry, Sev?" She looked up at him with cool, base lust in her dark eyes.

Hermione met Bellatrix's gaze and was about to drop her eyes, but something prevented her. She saw something strange in the dark woman's mind. Like a bandit, Hermione slipped in and was out so quickly Bellatrix had no time to register the invasion. It puzzled her, and she made a mental note to mention it to Severus.

Severus' long nose wrinkled with distaste. "I'm sure we can find you a saucer of milk, Bella, if you're peckish. Our Lord requested I bring my concubine, and she is overjoyed at the opportunity to pay her respects to the Dark Lord, and to thank him personally for his continued favour."

The sound issuing from the dark woman's lips was akin to a snarl, and she gave them both a thunderous look as she disappeared through a set of double doors. Severus ignored her, and turned to Narcissa Malfoy. He gave her an almost courtly bow, and took both her hands in his.

"Always lovely to see you, Narcissa. I hope you are well."

Narcissa nodded almost imperceptibly. She ignored Hermione. "Thank you, Severus. I am well, as is Draco." There was tension around her ice-blue eyes. Very quietly, she leaned forward. "Are you spending your summer at Spinner's End?"

Severus nodded. "It is my intention. Why do you ask?"

Before she could reply, the doors opened and Bellatrix lounged in the doorway. "The Dark Lord will see you now. You, and your – " she sneered at Hermione. "-pet." She stared down at Hermione as they walked by, and Hermione met her gaze with all the serenity she could muster, as they all entered the receiving room.

The room was long and narrow, with an enormous, square table at the closest end. Hermione surreptitiously looked around for others, and saw an honour guard of two Death Eaters, one on either side of a large chair that sat at the far end of the room. From within her mind, Hermione felt Severus reach out to her. Calm yourself. I am with you. No matter what, I am with you. Always.

Hearing his words of comfort, Hermione relaxed, and focused her attention on the figure in the chair at the end of the room. Seated there was the creature that had terrified and paralysed the entire Wizarding world.

As Hermione approached Lord Voldemort for the first time, she was struck by how fragile he looked. He was much shorter than Severus, only a little taller than, say, Harry, but he was weedy and thin, and looked so frail it was hard to believe the power the wizard commanded. Hermione felt her heart-rate increase, and again she willed herself to relax. She knew the walls of her occluded mind were stronger when she was calm.

"Severus, how kind of you to join us this evening. I'm pleased you received my message, and brought your concubine."

As one, Severus and Hermione bowed at the Dark Lord's feet, and touched the hem of his garment to their lips in unison. "You and your companion move as one, Severus. Like dancers," Voldemort murmured, watching the two of them rise together.

He beckoned to Hermione. "Come forward, child. Let us have a look at the young lady who has so warmed the blood of our dear Potions master."

Shaking, Hermione looked quickly at Severus, who imperiously gestured her to obey the Dark Lord. With a pounding heart, she stepped closer to the monstrous wizard, keeping her head lowered, until she heard Bellatrix's mocking laughter. In an obscene parody of baby-talk, Bella cooed, "Ooh, is the ickle Mudbwood all scared?"

Amidst the uneasy laughter of the others in the room, Hermione looked at Bellatrix coolly. "I would think that obvious, Mrs. Lestrange."

She turned back to focus her attention on Voldemort. "Though I am little more than an infant in your service, My Lord, I have great respect for your power. I cannot afford the arrogance of fearlessness, My Lord," she said, glancing toward Bellatrix, "I am not a Pureblood."

Bellatrix snarled, "Why, you filthy little – "

"Bella, my darling," the Dark Lord said, "one must never be rude to a guest. Especially," he turned his gaze onto Hermione's averted face, "when they are correct."

Severus could feel his heart pounding. He stole a glance at the Dark Lord, who was watching Hermione intently. Finally, Voldemort rose from his chair and cupped Hermione's chin in his smooth, dry hand. Hermione met the Dark Lord's gaze, matching his with a calm, slightly aloof expression on her face. Severus felt his heart swell with pride, and fear drain from his body. His mind cleared of its panic.

"I must insist on manners, my dear Bellatrix," the Dark Lord hissed, with exaggerated courtesy. It made Severus' skin crawl. "Our guest is here because she is the consort of my most trusted spy, and therefore she is my trusted spy as well. Your reputation precedes you, Miss Granger."

Hermione smiled at the Dark Lord. It was a knowing, sensuous smile, and Severus reached out to stroke her hair. He felt her relax almost imperceptibly. His touch, intimate and possessive, was not lost on the Dark Lord, who tilted his head, throwing his reptilian features into greater relief. He released Hermione, and she stepped back to stand beside her lover, who stroked her cheek and playfully pinched Hermione's earlobe. She smiled up at him adoringly.

Voldemort regarded the two lovers for a moment. "What news, my dear Severus? Are you well?"

"I am quite well, My Lord, and I thank you for your concern," Severus purred, using his voice to maximum effect.

Voldemort watched his spy carefully. "And what news do you bring me from Hogwarts, and our friend Albus?"

Severus bit his lip. "The headmaster has assigned me to the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts."

"Excellent, news, Severus. After all these years, he is finally acknowledging your worth. I'm sure it is very gratifying, albeit twenty years too late."

Severus did not bother to hide the bitterness in his eyes. He had begged for the post for years. It had always been Dumbledore's subtle punishment, to deny Severus the position he'd desired the most, only to taunt him with a series of the worst sort of bungling fools to stumble their way through a classroom. Lupin had been passable, but the years of animosity had clouded Severus' judgment....

Severus continued. "Potter is with his Muggle relatives and therefore protected, but he plans to spend part of the summer with the blood traitor Weasleys. Dumbledore has confided in me that when the school term resumes, he plans to give Potter 'special lessons' in Defense. He will tell no one the extent or form these 'special lessons' will take. He grows more frightened with each passing day that Potter will fail in his quest."

"It must be devastating for Albus, knowing his champion is quite unsuitable for the task."

"Indeed, Sire. The question of Potter failing is no longer 'if', but 'when', My Lord. I predict that 'when' will be this year."

Voldemort was nodding. "This is positive news indeed. I, too, believe that this will be the year that all the pieces will fall into place."

The Dark Lord regarded Severus for a moment. "I must ask you, Severus ... what is the band on your finger? Tell me. I'm ..." the Dark Lord licked his thin lips, "curious."

Severus looked down at his left hand. He smirked. "A gift from Hermione, My Lord. A token of her appreciation."

Voldemort looked at Hermione. "Indeed? A ring is a very personal gift, my dear. Come, tell me about this token of yours." His voice was pleasant, almost kind.

Hermione looked into the Dark Lord's reptilian eyes, and within her mind, she heard Severus' voice.

Now, Hermione.

Hermione dropped to her knees, and looked up at Voldemort, her expression rapturous. "My Lord, firstly, I would like to thank you for asking me to accompany my Master today." She looked up into his eyes, and she opened herself to the Dark Lord. She felt his slimy violation into her mind. She had prepared for this; it seemed like she'd planned for this moment since the first time Severus Legilimized into her mind.

She allowed certain images to appear before the Dark Lord; she and Severus, kissing, their mouths fused together ... Severus' hand sliding down her knickers as they watched themselves in the mirror ... Hermione straddling him ... screaming in passion ... facing Harry, angry, resentful, trying unsuccessfully to convince Harry about Sirius Black, tearing at her back, mounting her ... Severus, rescuing her from Black, carrying her to the infirmary to stem Dolohov's curse ... Dumbledore placating Harry, defending Sirius ... All the images she revealed were true, if embellished somewhat. Each was at least grounded in reality.

Now Hermione pushed open a door in her mind, beckoning the Dark Lord to follow, and he obliged. Hermione showed him a 'memory' of Severus, comforting her after Dumbledore accused her of lying to Harry; Hermione placing Severus' hands on her belly, as he smiled at her with lust and ownership; the two of them in quiet discussion, as they spoke of their anger and betrayal at the hands of Potter and Dumbledore; and their commitment to destroy them ...

Finally, after what seemed an eternity, Hermione felt the cleansing release of Voldemort leaving her mind. For a moment, he watched her intently, almost hungrily. He turned to Bellatrix. "Leave us ... all of you."

Bellatrix gave Hermione a look of pure, jealous hatred, as she and the two guards left the room.

When Severus and Hermione were finally alone with the Dark Lord, he regally sat back in his throne-like chair. For a moment, he regarded the two of them. Finally, he turned to the dark-haired wizard. "How far along?"

"Two months gone, My Lord," Severus replied. He and Hermione waited, breathless. Without fear of reprisal, Severus took her hand. So be it. We are here together. We've done the best we could with the shitty hand we've been dealt. It is a good plan. He will either take the bait or he won't. It is in the lap of the gods now. I am with you, Hermione.

"I had heard rumours that Miss Granger was with child. Our own Bella thought this might be why you were so ... occupied at the Department of Ministries," Voldemort said, cryptically. "Tell me Severus, why did you put your seed into your consort? To please her, or to ensure her complete submission to you, and her complete betrayal of Harry Potter?"

Severus, still holding onto Hermione's hand, led them to their knees. They bowed at the Dark Lord's feet. He smiled demurely. "You know me all too well, Sire. I had hoped this was the reason you requested her to accompany me." Severus turned himself away from Hermione. "My concubine belongs to me now, Sire. Dumbledore and Potter betrayed her. Black is dead and she cannot accuse him. She is my slave now, as you knew she would be when you removed all other ... distractions from her life.

"You gave us the key, My Lord, when you freed her from her Muggle world. We believe, My Lord, that together we can facilitate the destruction of both Dumbledore and Potter. Hermione still has access to the boy that few can afford, and Dumbledore is growing weaker and more paranoid as the days pass. Soon, he will be useless."

Voldemort made a dismissive gesture with a skeletal hand. "So I've heard," Voldemort said. "In the meantime, I understand Potter is very distraught over the death of his godfather." Hermione looked down, a gesture not lost on the Dark Lord. "I am sure, my dear, that you do not share his views."

Hermione kept her eyes averted in shame. "Sirius treated me no better than an animal, My Lord. I thought he was someone to be trusted, just as I thought Harry and Dumbledore could be trusted. I have no compassion for them anymore. They deserve your wrath," she said, bitterness and contempt darkening her voice.

Voldemort looked from one to the other, first Severus, then Hermione. "Quite clever of you, Severus. You chose well with your little lioness. Albus betrays the girl's faith, and you avenge her by fucking her right under his nose. It would be a bitter blow indeed if Albus were to find out about Harry Potter's best friend, hiding her swollen belly under her demure school robes, while Potter's most hated professor bends that best friend over her desk between classes."

"She is quite the randy little minx," Severus purred, stroking his hand sensuously against her cheek, as if to praise her. "My Lord, the day you strike Potter down, I will happily fuck her over Potter's dead body, if it would please you to watch." As if to illustrate, Hermione kissed Severus' hand fervently, her eyes bright and full of desire. Severus looked down at her with a sneer.

Voldemort laughed. He had ever enjoyed Severus' coarseness; it had creativity and finesse, something many of his minions lacked greatly. He reached forward and stroked Severus' face, almost sensuously, like a lover. "Who would have thought such a clever little thing would have heated your blood so, Severus? I am pleased now, in any case. Not only does your little pet share your hatred of Dumbledore and his anemic champion, Harry Potter, but she seems to have obviated the memory of Potter's mother from your mind as well. I had despaired that you would be forever mooning over your first love."

His sensuous stroking continued, and Severus closed his eyes, as if being pleasured by it. Voldemort continued. "I had once thought your misplaced loyalty might be a liability, perhaps one that Dumbledore would exploit, but I see my misgivings were unfounded. Of course, he would no doubt ship you to Azkaban before nightfall should he discover your little indiscretion. It would be a tragedy to have your lovely consort cast out, to fend for herself, as the discarded whore of a spy. Much better that we keep you protected, shielded from the dangers Albus and Harry Potter represent.

"Yes, this is valuable knowledge, Severus. But how can I use it?" He looked at the two of them carefully. "Tell me, my dear, how can a half-blood spy and his Mudblood concubine win me this war?"

Hermione paused for a moment. In a low, respectful voice, she said, "My Lord, I know Harry Potter. I can deliver him to you when the time is right. He and the Order trust me implicitly, and I can convince him that I'm still fighting with him. Say the word, and I will give him to you, as a sign of my devotion."

She looked into the eyes of the monster, and pretended he was a god. "My Master and I can be a formidable weapon for you. We are trusted by those who would plot your downfall. I do not seek glory, My Lord. All I ask, when you come into your kingdom, that I be allowed to serve you, for the glory of my Master." She looked up at Severus with such devotion and fervor, for an ugly moment, Severus saw the shadow of Bellatrix in her eyes.

Voldemort watched her carefully as well. "Such passion, Severus. Such fire. I see why you enjoy fucking her so much." Hermione, acting the part of the wanton with perfection, leaned against her mate, and closed her eyes. Severus stroked her 'pregnant' belly, and together they knelt. "Both of you are so eager to bow to me. So eager to debase yourselves."

Hermione looked into the Dark Lord's eyes. "The Wizarding world has debased us. Dumbledore has debased us. I dedicate all my power to you. Together, I believe that my Master and I can be the perfect weapon to give both Harry Potter and Dumbledore to you."

Voldemort looked at Severus. "I'm pleased, Severus. You have trained and molded her well. Perhaps the child she carries will be the first to be born in our brave new world."

"It would honour us both, My Lord." Severus willed himself to stand.

Voldemort rose, and faced Hermione again. "The ideals of pure-blood supremacy are the foundation of our new world. You will have to understand this. Jealousy is no respecter of breeding."

Hermione bowed. "I understand, sir."

Voldemort gave a short, hissing laugh. It turned Hermione's stomach. "I confess, I did not believe you worthy of my Potions master in the beginning, but I see you are made of strength, in spite of your youth. You're ambitious, ruthless, passionate and powerful." Voldemort's voice grew cold and his eyes narrowed. "Everything my Death Eaters despise in a Mudblood."

Hermione felt her lips go numb. She was sure the blood had drained from her face. When Voldemort's voice changed, it was as if the temperature of the room dropped, and she was now sure she was a step away from death. I'm sorry, Severus...

Voldemort laughed again. "It is also everything I treasure in your Master, and he is also equally despised by them.

"I agree: you are a formidable team. I look forward to watching you destroy Hogwarts from the inside out. Once Hogwarts falls, the rest of the Wizarding world will follow. Mudbloods will be persecuted. Bring me Potter, and I will promise you my protection."

Hermione forced herself to remain looking at the Dark Lord, and she didn't even flinch when he placed his hand on her magically swollen abdomen. "And when the war is over and Potter and his ilk are no more, this child will stand as a symbol of the power of Voldemort. There will be rewards for all who are faithful to me, Severus. Your reward will be your life, and the lives of your family."

Severus watched, as Hermione's face lit up with joy, and she turned to him with tears standing in her eyes. To any observer, it appeared that Hermione was overcome with happiness at the Dark Lord's promise. Severus knew the reality was much more visceral.

The two of them dropped to their knees and kissed his robe again. "We will never fail you, My Lord," Severus said. Hermione was looking up at Voldemort as if he were the sun, and for a moment, Severus could almost believe she was indeed with child, glowing and blooming with his seed in her. The thought of it made his heart flutter.

Voldemort was looking at Severus, seeing emotion play across the dark wizard's face. "Yes, I'm very pleased with your plans. To show my pleasure, I will grant your request, Severus."

Severus paused. Delicately, he asked, "Request, My Lord?"

Voldemort tilted his head in that strange, reptilian way. "Why, to marry your little Mudblood concubine, of course! It is saturating your thoughts, or did you think you could hide them from me?"

Severus did not have to pretend to be surprised. "I did not dare presume to ask, Sire!"

Voldemort smiled. "Think of it as insurance, Severus. You would never risk betraying me for the sake of her life, and she would never betray you for the sake of her child." He sighed. "Haven't we learned that lesson with your former lover, Severus?"

Severus turned the full battery of his beautiful dark eyes to Voldemort. "You will never have to question our loyalty, My Lord. Others may try, in their arrogance and jealousy, to weaken your faith, but we will give you no cause. Thank you for this honour, My Lord."

The Dark Lord dropped his hand, and sat back on his throne-like chair. He raised his wasted arms in a gesture of blessing. "Go. Marry your cunning little concubine. Flaunt your impropriety right under Albus' nose! I look forward to watching your child grow, my dear."

He made a subtle gesture of dismissal. "I assume you will return to Spinner's End after you bed your bride. I will send Wormtail ahead, to make it ready."

Severus hid his distaste perfectly. "That is most kind of you, Sire. I will adjust the wards to allow him access tomorrow."

"Excellent." Voldemort looked from one lover to the other. "It is a pity that neither of you are magical folk of pure blood. It does make my Death Eaters nervous to think my judgment may be influenced by those of lesser status. Then again, many of them are currently suffering from their own lapses of judgment by sitting in a cell in Azkaban."

He grinned, and Hermione could feel acid pool in her stomach. "Perhaps, when our future is established, a magical relative or two may turn up in your family tree, my dear. While I care little for politics, I do care that my favoured advisors are regarded in esteem by those of purer blood."

Voldemort turned to Severus. "Congratulations on your new appointment, Severus. I'm sure your instruction will be very informative. Who knows? Perhaps Mr. Potter may find himself the tragic victim of a classroom demonstration gone wrong."

"Indeed, My Lord. The end game is nigh; we will not fail you. We will deliver your enemies into your hands."

As Severus and Hermione backed away from the now disinterested Voldemort, Severus once again marveled at the young witch at his side. She had been clever, devious and fearless. At one point, he was terrified she'd made a misstep, but the Dark Lord, ever a will-o-the-wisp with his whims, had overlooked it and turned it into a compliment.

It stunned Severus how delicately Hermione had played the most powerful dark wizard the world had ever created. However, it also terrified him that they were now inextricably linked in the Dark Lord's mind. As long as one was of value to him, so would the other be; should one ever be found wanting, the other would be sacrificed as well.

Strangely, as they turned and walked through the door out into the corridor, Severus no longer felt the crippling fear that had been a part of him for so long. It was as Hermione had said: once they embarked on the course, they were committed, and there was a sort of fatalistic 'thy will be done' feeling about it. They were no longer marking time. The wheels of the end game were now set in motion.

They walked silently toward the door to leave. From the shadows, Narcissa Malfoy appeared, and beckoned to Severus. "I must speak to you," she hissed, urgently.

Severus looked at her closely. Narcissa was pale, tearful and clearly terrified. His heart sank. It could only be about Draco. He had been keenly aware the Dark Lord had neglected to mention his plans for Dumbledore and the part Draco was to play. It troubled Snape more that Dumbledore had already known. Who had told him?

He sighed. "I will be at Spinner's End in a few days' time, Narcissa. Feel free to call on us then."

"Us?"

Severus turned to Hermione. "Come, pet. The hour grows late." He placed a possessive arm around her, and together they walked from the manor. As they left, Hermione turned and looked at the lovely woman, and their eyes met. Narcissa did not flinch, or sneer, or turn away in disdain. Stealthily, Hermione Legilimized into her thoughts. Amidst the chaos, the only strong, sure thoughts were of Lucius, languishing in Azkaban, and Draco, and Narcissa's fierce, all encompassing determination to protect him.

She and I aren't so different, Hermione thought. We're both frantic to protect our men from the war, and we'll do anything to that aim.

The air was cool as they walked from the manor. The last of the light was fading, turning the sky a beautiful midnight blue, and the two of them stopped and simply looked at it, grateful to be alive. The air smelled unbearably sweet, and they clasped hands and breathed in the night, as if it could dispel the slime of their encounter with Voldemort.

Severus heard a sharp sound, and turned to find tears flowing down Hermione's face. He took her in his arms. "It's alright, lass. I feel this way every time I leave this place."

She nodded, but the tears continued to flow, and he recognised the carving, curling sweetness of looking death in the face and walking away. He had done it many times, and it still left him feeling weak and half-mad.

He soothed and crooned, "Shhh, little one. No tears. Not now. You were sublime. You are the most amazing witch," he marvelled, kissing the tears from her face. He took her hand and they Apparated away.

When they were still again, Hermione looked around. Instead of seeing the familiar grounds outside the gates of Hogwarts, they seemed to have landed in the alleyway of a dirty, run down neighbourhood. Hermione wiped her eyes with his handkerchief and sniffed, wrinkling her nose at the smell of garbage and offal. "Severus, where are we?"

He smirked. "Spinner's End, lass. My home. I'm not taking you back to Hogwarts tonight. I'm going to keep you with me and make sure you marry me, before you come to your senses and change your mind."

Chapter and opening lines: "Into Tomorrow" from Paul Weller