Here is the final chapter for this story. Yay! Now I can go and work on other ideas that are on my waiting list XD. Enjoy!

Ps. There will be M rated scene later in this chapter.

…

"I told you I've tested the balm on myself." He sounded defeated, turned his head to the side and crossed his arms. His hairs fell like curtains, covering his face.

She sighed, knowing she had stepped right into a dangerous territory. She sat up and turned toward him, legs folded beneath her. Tentatively, she placed a hand on his arm, finding him all tensed up.

"You know it is not what I imply, Severus." Her voice was gentle but sincere, her fingers tugging his shirt, urging him to look at her. When he did, his face was a mask again. His eyes were dark and full of ghosts.

"Hermione." He began, then paused, drawing in a long breath. "It doesn't matter. They don't bother me anymore. It doesn't worth the efforts to treat them."

He seemed calm, like he meant what he said, but his eyes betrayed him. Too bad for him, she had known him too well to fall for his act. "I don't think so, Severus. I think it is time for you to let go of all these scars. Don't let them punish you anymore."

A look of surprise flashed across his face, and she knew he didn't remember their awkward conversation about his scars. The one he initiated when he tried to make her feel better about hers.

"You told me my scars were not like yours, which were reminders of your sins. You think they are burdens you need to bear to be the one who survived." Slowly shaking her head, she blinked back the tears that were welling up in her eyes. She was unable to convince him that he deserved a happy life—that he had earned his freedom—at that time. It saddened her every time she thought about how much pain he was putting upon himself.

"They are." He said stubbornly, jaw set. "The things I've done…"

"Were forced upon your hands. During a war." She interrupted firmly, shifting so that she was kneeling in front of him, striding his thighs. She cupped his jaw so that they were eyes to eyes, determined to beat reasons into his head.

"I've done bad things, too. Not all of them was because of the war. None of them left a physical scar, but the memories were always there, tormenting me." She took a breath, voice shaking. "I won't pretend that I understand what you've been through, because I don't think I ever can. But that doesn't mean you should torture yourself by them with the rest of your life."

"You are a good man, Severus. You've died once for all the things you've done. It has been three years since the war. It is time to live your life."

He was speechless, looking at her with such a complex expression that made her want to cry. She moved her hands to rest on his shoulders, waiting for the meanings of her words to sink in.

He was sitting up straight, eyes locked with hers. She could almost see the battle within him. Time expanded between them, seconds spanned into minutes. Her living room was suddenly too quiet. The constant ticking of her clock was slowly driving her mad.

Tick, tick, tick, tick…

Then he closed his eyes and laid back against the sofa, drew in a deep, shuddering breath. When his eyes opened again, something she never saw on him showed in their depths—confusion.

"I don't know how." He admitted quietly, like a helpless boy losing his way home. At this moment, he looked like something fragile and near broken—a fine Chinese sitting on the edge of a tilting table.

Millions of cursed knives had cut her heart into pieces and then someone sealed them back with hot iron string. It hurt so much she was unable to breathe. The need to comfort him was burning her alive, so she did the only thing she could think of—she hugged him, tightly, her forehead rested against his.

"We will find a way." Her voice was saturated with tears, but she didn't allow herself to cry. Somehow she knew she needed to be the stronger one here, need to be the solid base. "Let me treat your scars, and we will find a way together."

"We?" His voice was barely audible. His hands had moved to lightly rested on her waist. Their faces were so close their noses were almost touching.

"Yes, we." She uttered the words with all the confidence and determination she had. "You have me now, Severus, you don't have to struggle alone anymore."

The looked he gave her was out of anything she had seen in her life. He looked at her like she was a Goddess who just showed him a miracle; an angel who saved his soul; a heroine who rescued him from Hell.

It arrested her heart.

He sighed, giving up whatever fight he was having with himself. He slowly dropped his head to her shoulder, nose drawing a line from her temple to her neck. A shiver ran along her spine. She couldn't believe she went from almost crying to arouse in three seconds flat.

"I see." His warm breaths were fanning her skin, nose nuzzling her neck in a non-sensual way, like a puppy seeking comfort from his master. She found her ability to think slowly drifting away from her, so she expressed her confusion in the most intelligent way.

"Hmm?"

"Help me heal my scars, Hermione. Free me from their chains."

…

"They never have much of a chance when they were facing me." He explained his reasons to start with the ones on his back first, hands moving along the line of buttons. He was sitting on the ottoman with Hermione behind him. "Better started with the worst ones."

And he couldn't bear to see her look of pity or disgust.

His fingers had freed the final button from its hole, his shirt dropped down from his shoulder and hit the carpet with a quiet ruffle.

Behind him, Hermione drew in a shocking breath.

"I should've warned you." He snarled, glad that he couldn't see her expression. "My attackers weren't artists."

He was shocked when her arms slid over his shoulders and she hugged him from behind. Her cheek was pressed against his temple. She was shivering, drawing in small rapid breaths, no doubt attempting to stop herself from crying over his sorry ass.

At that moment, her words earlier finally sank in—he had her now, as a friend or something more didn't matter. She was here; she would be here.

Suddenly, he felt free. Small cracks broke along the walls of the prison he built for himself, the gold glittering of sunshine slipping into its darkness.

"Sentimental Gryffindor." He huffed, wanted to brighten her mood.

She snorted and retreated, his body felt cold without her there to warm them. "Be careful, Severus. Don't piss off your healer."

He turned his head, pleased to see her smile, eyes red but dry. "Should we started with your neck?" She asked, fingers touching Voldemort's parting gift.

He faced forward and shrugged. "Your choice, Healer Granger."

"You are terrible." The laughter in her voice made him smiled. Then he felt the back of her left hand gently pressing into his palm. "You said it would feel better if you have something to hold on to." Her voice was small, a little bit shy.

"I would break your bones." He made sure his voice was deep and calm, didn't want to upset her further.

When he was in the memories he could no more tell what he was holding, the blanket he used when he was experimenting the potion has been torn so bad that he had to replace it. In the end, he decided it would be better not holding anything. Potions and healing charms could fix a bleeding palm well enough.

"You never go easy, don't you?" She sighed defeated, forehead dropped to the back of his head.

"Hardly." His lips were curving up, amused.

"Alright, just wait a minute." He turned and saw her walking toward her bookshelf, glancing through her extensive collection of books in searching for something. Once in a while, she would pull one out and flip through the pages, murmured something to herself.

Couple minutes later, she seemed to find the one she was looking for, her face lit up with excitement, and he felt himself melt by its warm.

When she came back and pushed her hand into his, there was a fade silver shimmering on her skin.

"Iron fist, really?" He lifted an eyebrow, even though she could not see it.

"Just hold it, will you?" She sounded adorably irritated. He heard her murmured the floating charm to the balm so that her right hand would be free to apply the potion.

His lips curled up and he wrapped his hand around hers. It was soft and warm and smooth—a porcelain teacup warming up by hot tea. A string in his heart flicked. He felt like a ship docked safely into its harbor after wandering on the sea for ages.

…

He wasn't lying when he said he would crush her bones. Hermione bit the base of her thumb to stop herself from crying when he cried and twisted in agony, hand gripping hers with force so strong that even the charm seemed to shutter.

She had tried to suggest they go slow, treating the scar part by part rather than in a whole, but he insisted this way, wanted to get it done fast. What was worst was that most of the scars were tangled together, new ones covered old ones. When she asked what would happen when applying the balm on the crossing area, his answer broke her again.

"Flashbacks from all the curses would have a party." He tried to play it lightly, like it was nothing. "Your mind would get…rather creative."

His cries died down, the scar was opened up, like a toothless mouth with an ugly soundless laughter.

"It's alright, I am here, Severus. It was just memories." She applied the Dittany. Her fingers had entwined with his, giving him as much support as she could.

Heavily panting, he lightly squeezed her hand in acknowledgment. Tenderly, she placed a kiss on the healed skin, just like she did to all the others. His muscles tensed for a brief moment, but he didn't say anything.

This was the last scar on his back that was caused by dark curses, there were still others that were from whips or even knives, but she knew they would be a topic for another day. She silently stepped around him.

Her hands balled into tight fists when she saw the wild, ugly "Mudblood Lover" on his chest, her magic almost snapped from all the anger she felt for whoever had done this.

"You see, Bellatrix did have a fondness for branding people." He said in his calm, tell-tale voice as he did for all the scars she had treated. "It was after I begged him to spare Lily's life." His tone got darker, with a bitter revenge. "After that, I've climbed my ladder high enough to avoid her humiliation."

"She died too peaceful." She bit out the words, thoughts running to think of a way to curse the death.

"I am sure she was cycling through every level of Hell now." He said gently, brushing a string of her hairs behind her ear. "It helps placing her face on every dead when reading Inferno."

That successfully tamed her anger, and she chuckled. "Never know you are so funny, Severus."

"Don't insult your elders, young lady." A ghost of laughter was hovering on his face in response to hers. "People may think you never learnt manners."

…

"How dare you filthy half-blood to beg our Lord for the mudblood?" Her piercing voice was a form of torture all by itself, worst than nails scratching on glasses, especially after three rounds of Crucio. He clenched his teeth, hoping she was nearly done.

As a punishment for his audacity, the Dark Lord has given him to Bellatrix to 'teach him proper respect'. So he had to suffer through this. Attempted to fight back would only end with worse torture.

Lily would be safe. This was all for Lily. Lily.

The crazy witch suddenly went quiet. Observing him with a twisted excitement, she summoned a silver knife to her. "You know, little half-blood, my baby here hasn't tasted blood for quite a long time. Mind if she took a sip?"

His cries echoed through the walls, crashing against her crazy laughter.

"Severus! Severus! It is just a flashback. Bellatrix is dead." Someone was calling his name, a voice that made him feel safe and warm, his eyes focused on two molten ambers. "Look at me, Severus. It's alright. I am here."

"Hermione." He breathed, loosened his grip on her hand. The ones with Bellatrix was always the worse; the mad witch was indeed a piece of work. That was why he left it to the last, trying to build tolerance through the milder ones before facing the darkest.

She gently brushed his hairs behind his ear and smiled up at him. "Welcome back."

Silently, they watched the last piece of his sin healed under Dittany. This time when she bent down and kissed the skin, he knew it wasn't his imagination.

"Why?" He asked, voice husky, suddenly unable to take any torment anymore, even the bittersweet kind.

She looked up at him, bottom lip caught between her teeth, seemingly considering how to answer his question. He could see she had come to a decision before she opened her mouth.

"Let's talk about this tomorrow." She finally said, gently pulled him up from the ottoman by their still linked hands. "You should rest now. My guest room is ready for use."

…

Severus gradually woke up from the best sleep he had for years. It was a rather strange feeling—not waking up with a start. There were no nightmares, no dreams, just vague senses of warm and softness against his skin, a pair of chocolate brown eyes, kissable pink lips, and a sweet voice crying out his name in ecstasy.

His hand scowled down his face when he spotted another thing that hasn't happened in years—a morning condition. Growling, he walked toward the bathroom and took a shower.

The smell of bacon, sausages, eggs, and pancakes greeted him when he stepped out of the guest room, along with the sound of someone humming something off-key. He allowed himself a small smile. This was new, too. Normally he woke up way before her.

"Morning." He announced himself when he spotted her in the kitchen. She was wearing a tank top and a pair of sweatpants. Her messy hairs pulled up into a ponytail. A sudden impulsion hit him like a brick—he wanted to walk over and wrap his arms around her waist, to place a kiss on her exposed neck, to murmur something sweet into her ear.

He felt heat on his cheeks. Damned his overactive imagination.

"Morning, Severus." Busy with breakfast making, she thankfully didn't turn to look at him. He schooled his expression and walked over to the counter. "How was your sleep? Mine was great. No even a hint of Bellatrix or Dolohov. I slept like a baby." She chanted happily, flipping a pancake to the plate.

"Residues of dark magic were known to affect one's mental." He replied, setting up the kettle. "Shall I make us tea?"

"Sure, thank you. Breakfast will be ready in a sec." She turned and gave him a smile bright enough to be the sun. He was stunned again by her beauty.

"No problem." He muttered, clearing his throat.

…

They ate their breakfast in their usual manner, talking about the properties and ingredients of the healing balm, debating over how dark magic influence one's health. The question from last night hovering around them like a ghost, neither of them mentioned it.

After they finished their foods, they moved toward the living room, still discussing whether the potion could be altered to treat fresh werewolf's bite. She stopped him in the middle of the living room. "You asked me why last night."

He was no doubt startled by her direct approach. He stopped dead in his track and turned toward her in a sharp movement. His gaze was piercing intensive, she felt like a mouse under the scrutiny of a cat. But she was not a Gryffindor for nothing, and she knew exactly what she needed to do.

…

"Because," She stepped closer to him, hands flat against his chest, hot as two iron bands. "because I can't stand to see you suffer, Severus. And I would do anything to ease your pain." She paused and wetted her lips, standing on her tiptoes. Her face was so close he couldn't breathe.

"Because I love you." She said, voice sweet like the best elf-made wine, and gently placed her lips on his.

…

He didn't push her away as she had feared. Instead, he pulled her against him and deepened the kiss with an almost mindless intensity. She felt fires burning along her veins, a raw hunger swept over her. She returned his kiss with equal madness, wanted to devour him.

Somehow she has forced him backward until he ungracefully fell upon the sofa, his groan muffled by her impatient lips which were eager to deepen the kiss. They both moaned when Hermione straddled his legs, her heated center grinding against his hardness.

"Hermione…stop… Too fast, too much." He dragged his lips from their passionate lip-lock, gasping for air. "I don't want to rush you…"

Hermione stopped her sensual attack of his delicious neck momentarily to looked at him, her warm hands already sneaked inside his half-opened shirt. When did that happen?

"No, Severus." She slowly rolled her hips against him, earning a deep growl from his throat. "Too slow, too little." She looked down at him with burning desire that matched his own.

He almost chocked by the intense emotions roaring through him by her simple words. It was a novel, heady feeling—being desired so.

A look of vulnerability flashed across her face, and she acted to move away from him. "If you don't want to…"

He stopped her by pulling her back for a passionate kiss with an impatient grunt, successfully put an end to her temporary self-doubt.

…

She was on fire. Everywhere he touched burned, anywhere was not connected to him feel cold and empty. So she pushed herself more firmly against him, arching her back when his mouth closed around one stiffened nipple.

"Severus!" Her magic, as eager as its owner, snapped out and stripped them both of their reminding clothing. The man currently had his head buried in her chest had the audacity to chuckle, the sound oddly ignited her further.

"My impatient know-it-all." He let go of her breast and purred into her ears, a hand slid down to her wet and throbbing core.

"Damn right I am." She half-growl when she captured his lips for another kiss. Her hand caressed down his chest and grabbed hold of his hard shaft. He cursed, head threw back against the couch. "Hermione, bedroom…"

She almost giggled at the idea that he seemed to be the more cautious one here. It was rather sweet, really, but not what she needed right now.

"No. Here, now." She rose up and guided his hard length into place. The thickness of it made she sigh. Severus cursed rather creatively when her heat slowly engulfed him.

"Contraception…" The word was forced out through clenched teeth. His body rigid from the effort of not pounding into her like a mindless animal.

Seeing his control shuddering before her eyes, Hermione felt herself arouse even further.

"It's taken care of." She said breathlessly with a sweet kiss on his lips, sinking deeper down and finally taking all of him in.

It really has been a long time for her. She felt the slight sting of being stretched so fully. Still, the feel of him inside her was incredible and she soon felt the need to move, to get more.

He stopped her with two large hands on her waist, his breaths hot and heavy against her skin. "Slow…Gods, Hermione. It's been too long…I can't…." He placed fervent kisses along her neck, her collarbone, and her shoulders, unable to finish his sentence.

"Yes, slow." Hermione breathed out, throat tight knowing she had such power over the normally collected wizard. Together, they moved slowly, finding a rhythm that made her moan and made him groan. Their lips and tongues entangled, mimicking the motions of their bodies.

Soon they found their release together; both couldn't hold back much longer.

…

His magic rolled through them both, cleaning the residue of their frantic love-making. She was sitting bonelessly beside him; head rested on his shoulder. It felt so good to be able to touch him freely, to feel his skin next to hers. She sighed happily, drawing the blanket over them.

"Hermione." His warm hand cupped her chin and softly turned her to face him. She never saw him looked so relaxed and content, and happy, almost gleeful. His eyes were so full with love she thought she was going to drown on them.

"I…" His jaw was working up and down, seemingly unable to form the words. "I…" He closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against hers, slowly nuzzling her nose. "I love you." His voice close to a whisper.

"I know, silly man." She murmured against his lips, "Your potion has spoken for you."

They smiled against each other's lips, and no more words were needed for a very long time.

…...

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