Love and War

A/N: Lots to say today! First off, thanks to all you readers who have taken the time to leave me a review. I can't begin to tell you how much I appreciate it!

Special thanks to alert readers, Swooning, Amygdalaj, and Lady in the cloak, for letting me know about a couple typos in the last chapter. You guys rock!

For those of you wondering if Hermione said "I don't speak German" correctly, she didn't! But then, Hermione doesn't speak German any more than I do, so she doesn't know that she's wrong. Wouldn't she be mortified! ;) Instead of saying "I don't speak German" she should be saying "I speak no German." Thanks to Veradee amongst others for letting me know the proper form, but I'm not going to tell Hermione about it. It would do that girl good to be wrong about something.

Now for something very cool! Way back when I first finished the first draft of chapter 12, and long before I posted it, someone alerted me to this lovely artwork of Mel's. http://www.deviantart.com/deviation/33500099/

When I saw it, I nearly squeed my pants off! Since then, Mel has renamed it for this fic, and I'm the proudest Pooka in the whole world! So go take a peek!

As always, this fic wouldn't be fit to be read without first being prettied up by my intrepid beta, Vaughn. Vaughn rocks!

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Where does one go from a world of insanity? Somewhere on the other side of despair.

-T.S. Eliot 1888-1965

An hour later, Hermione still sat on the sofa with a sleeping Severus' head in her lap. Though she had started out enjoying this innocent contact, her thoughts had soon taken a turn south. If she made the sacrifice that she had been considering, who would then take care of Severus? This thought plagued her for some time. Hermione didn't want to leave him; she didn't want to die at all. However, thinking that she was the only person capable of looking after Severus seemed as foolish as thinking that no one else could finish her research. Certainly, Severus enjoyed her company, and was more likely to listen to Hermione than he was to listen to Harry or Ron, but that didn't mean that Hermione was the only person who could take care of him. It certainly seemed a poor excuse for keeping her from doing what she knew must be done.

There was no use putting the matter off any longer. The job needed to be done and she was the obvious choice to do it. It was hardly as if Hermione had all that much to lose, after all. She was at odds with her two best friends and she was hopelessly enamored with a madman. Her whole life suddenly seemed rather pointless. She didn't want to die, but if she did, at least it would be for a very good reason. Perhaps it would add some meaning to a life that suddenly seemed rather pitiful.

At this point, Hermione's bitter musings were interrupted by Harry appearing at the library door. Stepping into the room, Harry closed the door quickly but quietly before drawing his wand to place a complicated ward on it.

"Is something amiss?" Hermione asked, her voice soft in deference to the man asleep with his head on her lap.

"Molly's here," Harry said just as softly as he walked over to the chair nearest Hermione and sat down. "She didn't give us any notice; she just walked in through the back door. She must have Apparated to the back yard."

"What's she doing here?" Hermione hissed. "Remus made it very clear to the Order that we weren't to be disturbed!"

"I told her that, so did Ron. She just went on about how it wasn't Order business and then babbled something about mothers having the right to see their sons. The woman is impossible!"

"Harry, if Molly can just waltz in here unannounced, others might do the same thing. We were lucky this time. How are we going to keep Severus safe if someone just pops in and starts screaming their head off?"

Leaning his head back to rest it against the high back of his chair, Harry closed his eyes for a moment to think. "I've already warded the Floo system. I'll add a ward to the house so that only those of us who live here can walk straight in. I can pass that off as an added security easily enough. By the time the ward alerts us, and we answer the door, we can get Severus hidden."

"That sounds sensible, Harry, but that's a pretty complex ward. Can you handle it?"

"Lemon squeezy," Harry said with a smile. "Lately I've been going to the school to study the wards there. There are layers of protection spells on that place, some of them going back centuries. Compared to some of those, the 'knock first' ward I'm going to put up is dead easy."

"Why have you been studying the wards?" Hermione asked curiously.

"Oh, you wouldn't know about that, would you? It's because of something that happened in the cave last year. Er...the man I was with..." Harry said cautiously, despite the fact that Severus still seemed deeply asleep. "Well, he was able to figure out what sort of wards were guarding what we thought was the Horcrux. He did it just by sort of feeling them out. I was really impressed by that; it was so useful. So I've been giving it a try at the school."

"And can you do it?" Hermione asked, obviously impressed.

"Somewhat. It's still kind of hit and miss. I can tell the wards are there, and I can identify some of the simpler ones. Sometimes I can even tell who placed them. Wizard magic feels different depending on who placed it. It's hard to describe, but it's as if the spells have different flavors or something."

"I've read about that," Hermione said, which caused Harry to roll his eyes playfully. "Well, I have! Wizards each have what they call a magical signature. A strong wizard can learn to tell the difference between the spell work of various wizards."

"That makes sense with what I've learned on my own."

"I agree that it's fascinating, Harry, but why did you want to learn it? I thought you were trying to track down the last Horcrux?"

"That search was leading nowhere fast. I got tired of wasting my time. There's nothing at Godric's Hollow, and unless we get some kind of tip, I don't know where else to look. So I started studying wards. Like I said, I thought it was impressive magic. With the war in full swing, there's no telling what may turn out to be useful."

Their discussion was suddenly interrupted by the loud voice of Molly Weasley coming from the hall. "Where's Harry got off to? And where is Hermione hiding? I wanted to say hello to her."

"I told you, Mum," began Ron, his frustration apparent in his voice, "Hermione is quite busy and shouldn't be disturbed."

"Busy my old hat!" huffed Molly. "She's just reading, isn't she? I imagine that the books will still be there after I've gone."

"Her work is very important to the Order, Mum!"

"Whatever you say, dear," Molly said condescendingly. "But I imagine that if there was anything of importance to be found in those moldering old books, Alastor...may he rest in peace...would have found it before now."

Two things happened at that moment. Harry set a Silencing Charm on the door and Severus woke up.

"That redheaded whore is loud enough to wake the dead," Severus grumbled. "Doesn't she care that people are sleeping?"

"It's all right, Severus," Hermione said, smiling down at him. "You won't hear her anymore. Go back to sleep now...you're still tired."

Reaching up to snag Hermione's arm off the back of the sofa, Severus then cradled it to his chest. With a sigh, he drifted back to sleep.

Lifting her eyes, Hermione was startled by the sharp look that Harry was giving her. "Honestly, Harry," she snapped quietly, "not you too? This is perfectly harmless!"

"Is it?" Harry asked. As Hermione opened her mouth to argue, Harry cut her off. "Don't give me hell, woman, listen to me for a moment. You know that I'm not near the prude that Ron is."

"That's true," Hermione said cautiously.

"I admit that it's damned odd to see you practically cuddling with a man that none of us ever got along well with, but that's not what I'm on about. You're a grown woman, Hermione. As far as I'm concerned, you can cuddle with whomever you wish and for whatever reason you wish,"

"Thank you for that, Harry. I didn't expect that of you."

"I'm a man, but that doesn't automatically make me an idiot," Harry joked. "Besides, it's easier for me than it is for Ron. You and I never dated."

"That doesn't excuse Ron for what he did," Hermione hissed. "He was cruel. He could have..."

"Hush," Harry interrupted. "We aren't talking about Ron. We're talking about you. We'll talk about Ron in a moment. I'm not convinced that this cuddling business is harmless, Hermione. The way you look at him sometimes, well, Ron and I may be pretty dense about such things most of the time, but even we can tell that you care for him."

"Of course I care for him, Harry. I'm taking care of him night and day. I could hardly do so and not come to care for him in some fashion."

"Understandable, but we aren't talking about caring for him in a motherly way, are we? You mother all of us, Hermione, in a nagging and incessant manner, I might add. This is different and you know it."

"Suppose it is different," Hermione offered hesitantly, "how is that any of your or Ron's business?"

"It's not, except that we care about what happens to you. You're our friend. Hermione, the chances of Severus ever regaining his wits is practically nonexistent. You must know that."

"Of course I know that! Do you think me a complete and utter fool? Don't you know how much it tears me up? Believe me, I know damned well that the only man who has ignited any interest on my part since I dated Ron is as mad as a March hare. I am also well aware that his chances of recovery lie somewhere between zero and none. But you try and tell that to my heart, Harry. You go ahead and try, because the blasted thing won't listen to me!"

Reaching out to grasp the hand that was not held captive in Severus' grasp, Harry gave it a firm squeeze. "I'm sorry, Hermione. I should have realized that I couldn't say anything that you haven't already thought of yourself. I guess love doesn't have much to do with logic."

"Is that what this is, Harry?" Hermione asked, looking sadly down at Severus' sleeping face. "Is this love?"

"Of course it is," Harry said with a crooked smile. "What else could possibly make such a hash of things?" Hermione couldn't help but chuckle about that. "It's a hell of a situation, I'll give you that," Harry continued. "Whatever you decide to do about it, you can count on Ron and me to stand by you."

"I know I can count on you, Harry. But I don't think I can count on Ron, not about this. What he did today was needless and cruel."

"I know that, Hermione, and so does he. He was busy calling himself five kinds of fool when Molly arrived and interrupted him. All the Weasleys have a temper, Hermione, you know that. Ron lost his wits earlier; he hurt Severus and he feels terrible about it. You won't have to worry about him doing anything of the sort again."

"He'd better not, or he'll find himself on the wrong end of my wand," Hermione grumbled.

"If he does do anything that idiotic again, I'll hold him down while you hex him. All right?"

"Deal," Hermione said, unable to hold back a smile at the mental picture Harry's words had created.

Their discussion was interrupted by Severus suddenly waking up again. Releasing Hermione's hand as if it burned him, he gave both Harry and Hermione a brief glance before scrambling up off the sofa. Retreating to where the suit of armor stood, he nervously traced patterns in the suit's breastplate. When Harry looked a question at Hermione, she could only shrug in response.

"Well," said Harry, with a somewhat forced air of nonchalance, "I suppose I'd best go check on Ron and see if Molly's left yet."

When Hermione nodded her agreement, Harry stood and left the library, closing the door firmly behind him. Hermione also rose and crossed the room rather warily to where Severus stood studying the armor intently.

"Severus?" she called softly. "Are you all right?"

"Fine! I'm fine!" Severus said gruffly to the armor's helmet.

That wasn't a good sign. Most of the time when Severus spoke to her, he would at least look in her general direction and often managed to look her in the eyes. Talking to inanimate objects instead was a sign that he was upset about something.

"Severus, what's wrong? Are you hurt?"

"What's wrong?" he shouted. "I run around shrieking like a deranged harpy and the stupid little whore asks me what's wrong? I'm what's wrong! Me!"

With a strangled sound, he buried his face in his hands. His voice became so soft and muffled that Hermione could barely hear what he said next.

"I didn't want you to see that. I didn't want you to see me like that. I'm so sorry."

At times, Severus' pain nearly broke Hermione's heart. It was bad enough that Severus was mad, but the fact that he was so bitterly aware of his madness made it that much worse. Every single day, Hermione watched Severus struggle against his insanity, and though he won occasional battles, it was a war that he could only lose in the end. Now, the poor man was apologizing to her for actions he had no control over. That couldn't be allowed. Wiping hurriedly at the tears in her eyes, Hermione grabbed both of Severus' shoulders and bodily turned him to face her. After prying his hand off of his eyes, she spoke.

"Look at me, Severus. Look at me!" When he reluctantly complied, Hermione placed her hands softly on his cheeks. "Do you think that I'm so heartless that I would blame you, or judge you, for things you cannot control? You're ill, love. I know that. I would no more blame you for what happened in here today than I would blame someone who had a cold for sneezing. Your illness is something that has happened to you, it is not who you are. I know that. What you are is a brave and intelligent man who is doing the best that he can under terrible circumstances. That's who you are to me."

She was crying again. Severus raised his hands to cradle her face. Gently, he wiped her tears away with his thumbs. "Pretty little whore," he cooed. "Such a pretty little whore. You should not cry. You should not cry for me. I'm a doomed man if I can't find the answer. You should not waste your tears on a doomed man," he finished sadly.

"What answer, Severus? What is it that you are looking for?"

Pulling gently away from Hermione, Severus walked over to his desk and began to quietly sort through the parchments there. "That's none of your business, little whore," he said, his tone softer than his words. "You look for your own answers and leave me to mine." With that, he went back to his research and ignored Hermione completely for the rest of the day.

Hermione saw Ron briefly at dinner. It was clear that the young man was horrified by his earlier behavior. Though Hermione was still angry at him--and told him so, repeatedly...she accepted his apology and their friendship remained intact.

That night, when Hermione sat, still dressed, on the edge of her bed, she was glad that she'd forgiven Ron. She'd been putting off a decision about what to do with the Hufflepuff cup, Hermione now decided it was high time that she stop waffling. The cup needed to be destroyed and she was the Order member who would be least missed. Personally, she was a woman who had been stupid enough to fall in love with a madman. What did she really have to lose?

It was three in the morning before Hermione stealthily left her bedroom. With a heavy heart and bitterly low spirits, she snuck into the library and removed the cup from its place on the mantle. Like a thief in the night, Hermione crept through the house to the back door.

The moon was new and it was dark as a cellar in the back garden. Hermione stood on the doorstep for a moment, letting her eyes adjust to the dim light before she left the porch. As she stepped into the yard, a shape appeared out of the shadows. Before Hermione could grab her wand or even scream, the cup was fiercely knocked out of her hands.

With a muffled thud, the cup fell to the grass and rolled a few feet away.