Disclaimer: Wait…where's all my cash? What? Oh, that's right…I'm not J.K. Rowling, so I'm not making a single red cent off this. I'm merely dabbling in her wonderful world for a bit; I promise to give them all back when I'm done! Well, maybe not Severus.

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Faith of the Fallen

Prologue:

She pulled the tattered green quilt more tightly around her shoulders, trying to block out the chill even as the fire crackled loudly in the quiet room. Lying back deeply into the overstuffed sofa, she closed her eyes and waited for him.

This was their night, as it had been for longer than she could remember. They would meet here, and for a few precious hours, they would be together without a thought for the outside world. No Master to answer to, no looking over their shoulders for the glint of a blade in the dark, no lies, no deceit; only two souls escaping the madness, if only for a moment.

It would be only minutes now; he was never late.

This thought placating her mind, she closed her eyes, burying her face in the fabric of the quilt, and inhaled its sweet scent: traces of soft leather, with a faint hint of firewood smoke, and a subtle musk that could only be described as 'him.'

Awash in comfort, her body was just relaxing into the subtle edge of slumber when a soft hand caressed her cheek.

She opened her eyes and found the shining ebony spheres of her soul-mate.

"Tired?" he asked.

"Not anymore," she smiled, closing her eyes and turning her face into his hand, slowly kissing his palm. His eyes slipped closed, and his lips parted slightly as she took the hand in hers, slowly kissing each knuckle and then the top, where a wisp of dark hairs tickled her lips.

"Mmm…" he groaned.

She ran her fingers over the sleeve of his robes. "You do realize that there are a myriad of other clothing options more suitable to the occasion?"

"Intimidation, my dear; it is my forte, remember," he said softly.

She smiled and said breathlessly, "I do believe that we are well past the point where I'm intimidated by your billowing." A dark eyebrow arched at her menacingly.

Laughing softly, she stood, running her hands up his chest and letting the quilt fall to the floor. His mouth fell open as he took in the sight of her. She was clad only in a simple black nightgown, its silk fabric reflecting the firelight in warm auburn glimmers, the delicate lace at the hem brushing lightly against her slim thighs.

"Intimidation, indeed," he breathed, and then in an instant, his hands were twined in her hair, clasping her to him, hers clasping the nape of his neck as their lips met in a searing kiss.

Far too soon, they pulled apart; she let him go reluctantly, raking his lower lip with her teeth. Breathless and lightheaded, their hearts hammered in their chests as they looked at one another for a moment before sharing another kiss, this one chaste and gentle.

She brought her hands down to the first of many small buttons lining his jacket front. Taking him gently, but firmly, by the collar, she turned him around and with a gentle push he was occupying her recent place on the sofa.

The fire threw his face into soft relief and she felt its faint warmth on her back as she moved to straddle his lap, running the knuckles of both hands reverently over his cheeks. Never breaking eye contact, he gave her a small, sad smile, which in itself said more than any words ever could.

-"Spend all your time waiting

For that second chance

For a break that would make it okay

There's always some reason to feel not good enough…"

She closed her eyes and leaned her forehead against his. "I love you."

"For always…" came his soft baritone voice.

"For always…"

-"And it's hard at the end of the day

I need some distraction,

Oh, beautiful release

Memories seep from my veins…"

He opened his eyes and took her face in his hands; he kissed her slowly, deliberately.

Small hands ran through his long, dark hair as he parted her lips, his tongue tasting hers as she deepened the embrace.

Pulling apart from him, her nimble fingers starting working on his jacket front. After unclasping the first few ebony buttons, she pulled his collar open and placed warm, lingering kisses at the base of his jaw.

Closing his eyes, he sighed softly and leaned his head back on the sofa, exposing more of his soft, pale skin. His hands moved down to her thighs and slid underneath the fabric of her gown, coming to rest on her hips. He returned her nip to the skin of his neck with a firm squeeze to her waist and an upward thrust of his hips.

Finally, after a slow, torturous descent down his front, she was able to push his coat open and begin removing the other barriers that separated her skin from his; she pulled on his tie and it came free with a soft 'sshhhh'. Sliding it slowly from around his neck she tossed it, forgotten, onto the floor.

His white, tailored undershirt was soft under her fingers as she smoothly laid open its ivory buttons. She always smiled at the contrast of colors; black and white. They were such a contradiction to this complex man who had lived most of his life in shades of gray, neither here nor there. The only unwavering, immovable truth in either of their lives was their love for each other, a love that no one dared question or interfere with.

She was brought back from her thoughts as finally, his pale skin was exposed as she pushed the fabric aside. He moaned softly, his tongue coming out to wet his lips, as she placed her warm mouth, and occasionally her teeth, again and again against his hot flesh.

With each subsequent touch of her flesh to his, his breath came faster, heavier.

His strong hands caressed her skin; she could feel the small calluses on the tips of his fingers as they pressed into the crest of her hips.

When she finally reached the last button, she pulled the shirt from the hem of his black trousers and pulling on his lapels, she urged him to sit forward. He did so, and she pushed both jacket and undershirt back off his shoulders. He pulled his arms from the sleeves, and the cool air hit his heated skin like a branding iron, causing gooseflesh to pepper his arms and hardening his nipples into tight peaks.

Still, he never took his eyes from her; he watched her as she looked at him, still wanting to see how she reacted to him.

Even after all this time, she still marveled, and was somewhat saddened, by the sight of him: he possessed a long lean frame, surprisingly muscled, and had strong, wide shoulders. His chest was brushed with a few dark hairs which ran in a dark line downwards, disappearing below the waistband of his slacks. His body was a landscape of scars, mostly old injuries, with a few newer acquisitions standing out in harsh pink lines. All were testament to the life he (they) led, the consequences of falling into a madman's disfavor…or doing his will.

She ran the knuckles of her hand slowly over his cheek and down his neck, tracing one long white scar that began under his right ear, ran down over his collarbone, crossed his sternum, and swung down over his lean stomach, coming to an end just above his left hip. Both their lives had changed the night he had received it; the night he almost traded his life for hers.

-"Let me be empty

And weightless and maybe

I'll find some peace tonight."

As her hand left his hip and moved to his left forearm, softly stroking up the inside with the tips of her fingers, he instinctively pulled away. She stayed with him, grasping him gently.

"All of you…" she said, looking at him, adding to her declaration spoken only moments before.

His head was lowered and turned away from her; she could see his eyes were closed, guilt and sorrow etched into the lines of his face. Even after years together, those two emotions still held him in a vice grip; he still blamed himself for everything.

She twined her fingers with his and pulled him up from the sofa. He embraced her as he came to his feet, holding her as if the world would fall away if he let go, his breath hitching in his throat.

-"In the arms of the angel

Fly away from here

From this dark cold hotel room

And the endlessness that you feel

You are pulled from the wreckage

Of you silent reverie

You're in the arms of the Angel

May you find some comfort here

You're in the arms of the Angel

May you find some comfort here."

"I'm so sorry…" he choked, but she cut him off with a firm, but chaste, kiss.

She pulled her lips from his slowly, brushing his hair back from where it fell around his face. "There is nothing to be sorry for…what I did was of my own free will, no one else's."

-"So tired of the straight line

And everywhere you turn

There's vultures and thieves at your back…"

"Please…" he pleaded, voice heavy "…make me forget."

The kisses he placed on her neck were hot, desperate, passionate, "…make me forget everything." He raked his hands through her hair and down her back to the hem of her gown. In one swift pull, it was over her head and tossed to the floor, forgotten with his own garments.

-"The storm keeps on twistin'

Keep on building the lies

That you make up for all that you lack…"

They stood in the firelight, she in black knickers, he in black slacks and boots, each staring into the other's eyes, into their very souls.

Warm hands pressed into the small of her back, holding her tight against his growing arousal. She pressed into him and he kissed her neck again, softly this time. Goosebumps raised on her skin as a shiver ran down her spine.

"Yes," she answered breathlessly, "Let's forge-…" Her words were lost in another searing kiss as he lifted her, his hands tightly grasping her bottom, and moved towards their bed. She wrapped her legs around him, feeling him pressing into her hungrily. Grinding her hips against him as he carried her, she sank her teeth into the muscle of his shoulder and raked her nails across his back.

There was no gentle lying down upon the duvet; there was only his passionate groan as his mouth found hers again and his hand sought out her warm center. She moved against him and he reached beneath the waistband of her knickers, seeking her out. After a few moments, his free hand gave a swift flick as he hurriedly murmured, "Evanesco," and the black fabric was gone.

Her head went back and a low moan escaped her as he trailed swift kisses down her chest, taking each nipple into his mouth and laving it slowly before moving further down. His tongue darted into the depression of her bellybutton and she laughed throatily. He watched her face as he slowly, and with great deliberation, moved further down, coming to rest between her trembling thighs. She knew what he was about to do, but that did not stop her body from arching upwards or quiet the ragged gasp that came as he covered her with his mouth, laving at her with his tongue. His long fingers found the well known spot that made her body writhe in ecstasy.

-"It don't make no difference

Escaping one last time…"

Placing a long, soft kiss against the inside of each thigh, he heard her whisper,"Please…please, I need you…"

She reached for him then, pulling him on top of her, wrapping her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist. She ground her hips against him as she traced his warm lips with her tongue, invading his mouth as his hands clasped the small of her back, pulling her firmly against him. Following his lead, this time it was she that spelled him out of his remaining clothes, leaving him skin to searing skin with her.

He placed himself at her entrance, and as he always did, looked into her beautiful, intelligent brown eyes, making sure she was ready. He was assured by the passion, the love, written on every part of her face, and as she pulled him to her mouth again, he pressed himself to the hilt within her.

Gasping against his mouth, she dug her nails into his shoulder as he moved within her. She moved with him, in the familiar pattern of old lovers, and even in the cool air, a light sheen of sweat soon covered both bodies.

They were lost in each other, in the movement of their bodies, in breathless words of love, in the knowledge of lives eternally bound.

-"It's easier to believe

In this sweet madness…"

They wore no rings, had had no ceremony, no public display of devotions.

All they had was each other, the only light in a world of Darkness, pulling each other back from the brink of madness. That they were able to find each other in such times was a testament to the Fates that they were meant to be.

The Great War had not gone smoothly; the Resistance had been crushed, utterly defeated.

Many lives were lost, many friends.

Whether or not 'The Chosen One' had survived was unknown, even to her. If he did indeed live, then he had gone into hiding, leaving no trace of his continued existence.

Even without their Hero, the remaining few on the side of the Light never gave up hope, even when it seemed that hope had forsaken them. Perhaps one day, the Dark Lord would meet his match, but for now the world lived in Darkness, hope all but lost.

-"Oh, this glorious sadness

That brings me to my knees."

Lost in her lovers embrace, she could feel the tingle beginning in her toes, the warmth building in her center as his movements became more erratic. "Yes…please…yes..." she cried as a wave of ecstasy consumed her body, mind, and soul. She grasped at him, leaving angry red trails down his back, arching into his body as his climax met hers with earth-shattering intensity. His whole body stiffened as he released himself into her, pressing his face into her neck and holding her so tight that there was no doubt she would bruise.

When the waves of culmination subsided, he moved and rolled onto his side next to her, pulling her with him so that they were nose to nose. Each sought the others eyes, and he found hers glistening with fresh tears. A few spilled over her lids, leaving behind shining trails in the firelight.

"Don't cry…you are too beautiful," he whispered, brushing away her tears with his thumb.

"As are you," she said as she leaned in for a soft, slow kiss. That they could find this little piece of happiness in a world filled with hate, fear, and despair was beyond all their hopes.

They lay together in the dying firelight, neither knowing what tomorrow would bring, but for now being together was enough.

As Fate, and perhaps Irony, would have it, they were among the lucky ones; the fortunate few.

His fate had been out of his hands for longer than he cared to remember. Hers, on the other hand…she had chosen hers when she had chosen him. She had said so herself; there was no other way, aside from death, and that was unthinkable if the world were to ever have a chance at the Light.

"I would do anything for you, Severus," she breathed as her eyes closed. "I will be yours for always..."

-"You're in the arms of the Angel…"

"And I yours...Hermione," he whispered into the quiet night. As sleep finally overcame her, he covered them with the down comforter and pulled her closer, burying his nose in her hair. He knew she spoke the truth; these were not hollow words spoken in the afterglow of passion. Her promise was fixed; unbreakable; undeniable. A promise made with blood…and sealed with unimaginable sorrow.

-"May you find….some comfort here."

"Anything…" he said softly, repeating her words as a single tear made its way down his cheek. As he finally gave himself over to the peace of dreams, his last waking vision was that of her small delicate forearm resting atop his stomach, and the dark form of a skull and serpent writhing slowly in the dying firelight.

~FIN

A/N: To be continued…

Confused? Well, me too. I initially intended this as a one-shot story, but then I started wondering how they arrived at this place and time. I will tie up all the loose ends eventually, so you will get answers if you keep checking in. 

Also, please remember that this is the first thing I have ever written in the realm of fan fiction. Be kind, people! No cookies for haters! ;)

I had a dream about the first half, with them on the couch, undressing each other, while the end simply popped into my head as I was writing. I'm a happy ending kind of girl, but I just couldn't resist ending it this way.

Evil, I know.

Personally, I have never read a story where Hermione has taken the Dark Mark out of her love for Severus. I see it as a testament to the absolute desperation of their situation; there is no way (at least in my mind) she would ever willingly take the Mark, if there were any other option. The Order has been defeated, The Chosen One is nowhere to be found; their world is truly in the hands of the Dark Lord. The only way for her to survive is to be with Severus, and the only way to be with him is to become a Death Eater, in a manner of speaking. If she had to choose between death or taking the Mark and perhaps helping Severus in his true quest for the Light, I feel that she would have chosen the latter. I also think that this gives a huge testament to her love for him; what other reason could she have to go against everything she believes in such a dramatic way?

**The title is the same as one of the books in Terry Goodkind's "Sword of Truth" series, which I highly recommend to any fantasy lover. However, just to be clear, this story is in no way related to TG or the SoT series in any way, shape, or form. They are two totally separate entities.

**The song is "Angel" by Sarah McLaughlin. I think this is a beautiful, sorrowful song that fits pretty well with the feel of the story. They are both trying to forget, for a moment, and find peace in their hopeless world. Thankfully, they can find it in each other.

Anyway, please leave comments! I would love to know what you think and appreciate any constructive criticism and advice! Thanks so much for taking the time to read! Also, if anyone would be interested in doing a beta-read for me, please let me know!!! I appreciate any thoughts, concerns, or constructive criticisms! 

BTS