A/N 1: More lemons ahead!

Chapter 44

Hermione awoke to a faint shaft of green light filtering into the dark bedroom through the underwater windows in the adjacent sitting room. She turned over, feeling the weight of Severus's arm around her waist, his heavy, sleeping body wrapped around hers, surrounding her in the coil of his cool magic. He sighed and Hermione paused, peering through the dark to look at his face. He slept like he meant it: eyes closed almost forcefully, mouth pursed, chest rising and falling heavily. She had never seen someone make sleeping look so much like a chore, and she smiled when he frowned in between breaths, his arm tightening around her.

A fumbling moment, a quick Tempus Charm – 6:54AM of my last day at Hogwarts – and a flick of her wand towards the fireplace lit the room with a warmer, brighter light.

Hermione watched Severus's face as the magical fire filled the grate, as the morning coalesced around her, as the previous night's passion dissipated to be replaced by ever-growing dread at what the day would bring. The dark man's eyes moved beneath their lids, his breath hitching as he dreamed. She reached up to smooth her fingers over the deepening crease between his eyebrows. Before she could touch his face, when her hand was just millimeters from him, Severus opened his eyes.

"Good morning," she said, trying to smile.

"Is it?" he asked, raising a brow and stifling a yawn simultaneously.

"Well, it was definitely a good night," she traced her fingers through the soft hair on his chest, "so I think a good morning isn't entirely out of the question."

"My quibble wasn't regarding the goodness of the moment, but the time of day, Granger." His mouth quirked up mischievously at one corner. "I judge it to be the dead of night."

"It's morning, Severus, in case you can't tell." She made an abbreviated gesture to the brightening room around them. "We have to –"

"You're clearly and woefully mistaken."

"No, I cast a Tempus, and it's –"

He cut her off with a kiss, and some of her dread dissolved as Hermione kissed him back, revelling in the hands that moved over her bare back, her thighs. Reluctantly, she broke the kiss.

"We have to –"

But he was kissing her again, rolling them over so that he pressed her into the mattress, his tongue moving against hers in sweeping strokes, his body hot and hard and awake with waves of magic that seemed to seep into her skin.

"Severus," she managed to say when he shifted against her, tracing a line of kisses down her sternum, "Severus, we have to…"

But her mind was descending from its near-constant state of overdrive back into a haze of pleasure as his fingers descended, lingering on her breasts, her belly, her hips until he found her centre, wet and waiting. He stroked her gently as he kissed her, the motions of his tongue matching the motions of his fingers. He pulled back to regard her with heavy-lidded eyes.

"What important thing do we have to do, Hermione?" he asked. He slipped a finger inside of her as he spoke, smirking when she let out a mewl of pleasure. "What is it that would have you leaving me cold in this bed, on this perfectly good evening?"

"Shut up," she gasped, lifting her hips in invitation, seeking out more. "Shut up, Snape, and come here."

She put paid to her words, leaning up to kiss him aggressively. His erection replaced the fingers at her entrance, and Severus pulled back to look into her eyes. She tensed as she had the first time, and he waited until she loosened her rigid posture, meeting his glittering black eyes with her own. There, she glimpsed something within the unbridled passion, something just holding it in check – a question.

This could be the last time we…

"Yes," she blurted out, "Yes - now - please."

He plunged forward, filling her, his head dropping to her shoulder with a growl that redoubled the heat in her core. There was no pain this time, only the pleasant ache of her flesh yielding to his. Their bodies knew one another now, and Hermione began to move with more confidence, tilting her hips forward, bringing her knees up, encouraging Severus to deepen his thrusts. Where the previous night he had been almost excruciatingly careful, this morning something quite different animated Severus, and he watched her face with a possessive curl to his mouth as Hermione gave way to him completely, trusting him, opening to him until he drove them both over the edge.

They panted together, skin slick with sweat, their bodies entwined.

"No matter what comes," Severus whispered into her ear, his face hidden within the mass of her hair, his body still joined with hers, his voice so faint it could have been the hush of skin against sheets. "No matter what…I love you."

"I love you, too," she whispered back, sudden tears trailing down her cheeks, "I don't know what will happen and…" she trailed off, taking a deep breath, which she let out in a rush, "I don't want to go."

He pulled back to look at her, his eyes calm and sorrowful.

"It's morning after all," he murmured.

She nodded, and tried to smile through her tears. She couldn't.

"I don't want to go," she told him again, reaching up for him once more.

"You have to. And I…" his body slipped from hers as he rolled away, leaving her freezing in the cool dungeon air. He rolled back a second later to drape the heavy coverlet over them. "And I have to let you go, Hermione." He lay beside her, head perched on his hand, his intense black eyes meeting her own. "And I will let you go." He slipped an arm around her waist and drew her close, his eyes already shifting to her lips once more. "But not just yet."

The Head Girl and the Headmaster were both absent from breakfast that morning.

The day unfolded precisely as Hermione and Severus had planned: the uneventful Thursday began with Amycus Carrow renewing the Caterwauling Charm in Hogsmeade, and ended with Alecto Carrow being trailed through the Hogwarts grounds later that evening by a nearly invisible assailant.

Although not naturally suited to skulking and stalking, Hermione had had ample practice over the years alongside Harry and Ron. It took all of her subtlety – and a strong Disillusionment Charm – to move from shadow to shadow as she kept pace with Alecto. Severus had told her in no uncertain terms that she should Stun Alecto from behind. Hermione had disagreed categorically with his insistence on such dishonourable tactics. And so she followed her enemy, drawing closer as the castle fell away behind them. Finally, at the last bend in the little road leading from Hogwarts to the village, Hermione lifted her Disillusionment Charm.

"Alecto Carrow," she pronounced into the cool April evening.

The woman was already drawing her wand as she pivoted, had already half-shrieked a curse, but she aimed wildly, plainly confused at having an enemy materialize so close to her. Carrow was already rallying, already mouthing the incantation of another curse, but Hermione, taking a leaf out of Severus's book, stepped forward as fluidly as she could, throwing her weight behind her arm as she connected her right fist with Alecto's head. The woman went to the ground with a slump and a grunt.

Hermione knelt beside Alecto Stunned her properly with a jab of her wand. She healed the purple bruise rising on her temple and, after just a moment's hesitation, cast a Memory Charm. Next, she plucked a hair from Carrow's head, tucked it into a vial of Polyjuice potion, and downed the resultant rust-coloured liquid. She gained a little height and a lot of girth as Alecto, and her body felt awkward and ungainly as she levitated the Stunned Death Eater into a ditch in the nearby forest.

The woman who now appeared to be Alecto Carrow set off for Hogsmeade, where she scowled and growled at anyone who caught her eye before renewing the spell structure Severus had built. Then, scowling one last time as she pictured a seaside cliff near Tinworth, she whirled away into the squeezing dark.

"Here she is!" a familiar voice crowed.

And, even before she finished Apparating, and still wearing Alecto's form, Hermione was engulfed by two strong arms.

"Oh, even like this you're a sight for sore eyes, 'Mione!"

She hugged Ron back, laughing a little when he lifted her up, tried to spin around, but set her down quickly with a grunt of effort.

"I'll try that again when you're you again," he said, laughing.

She smiled up at him. Even in the dark of evening, his familiar long nose and flaming hair were visible.

"It's good to see you too, Ron," came Alecto's scratchy voice. "And I'll take a raincheck on that spin." She turned at the sound of running footsteps. "Harry!"

Another set of strong arms, a head of messy black hair, and a pair of shimmering green eyes. Hermione sighed even more deeply as she embraced Harry for the first time in nearly a year.

"God, I've missed you," she told him, and even Alecto's voice couldn't mar her sincerity. "I've missed you so much, Harry."

"Me too, Hermione," he answered. "Me too. It's been so hard without you."

They embraced for a long moment, until Ron cleared his throat pointedly. Bill joined them to tell Hermione where Shell Cottage could be found, and she felt the Polyjuice potion releasing its hold as they walked together to the tiny seaside house.

The cottage's smallest bedroom felt crowded with the two of them and their twin beds, but Hermione was pleased to be with Luna, despite her constant chatter about the Erumpent horn Harry and Ron had blown up in her father's house. They were arguing the matter as they prepared for bed.

"I've told you," Hermione said, smiling as she tugged her pyjama bottoms on, "it won't have re-formed, Luna. That's impossible."

"Oh, I think you're confusing the impossible with the improbable, Hermione." Luna poked her head through her nightgown and waved a small hand between the two of them. "All of witch-and-wizard-kind is improbable, isn't it? But here we are."

Her blue eyes crinkled at the corners as Hermione opened her mouth to protest. Thinking better of it, Hermione shook her head.

"You have no idea how much we've been missing you at Hogwarts, Luna."

"I have some idea. Not all, not none, but some." Luna tilted her head and gave Hermione a surprisingly shrewd look as she straightened her nightgown (a violent combination of electric yellow and navy blue stripes). "You've told me about the DA and all the things you've been doing, but you haven't mentioned Professor Snape yet."

"I –"

Hermione was saved responding by a knock at the door.

"Come in," Luna called vaguely, following Hermione's gaze with her own mild eyes.

It was Ron, his tall, lanky form framed by the doorway to the tiny bedroom.

"Hi," he said, and Hermione watched in puzzlement as a flush ascended along his neck to wrap his ears in a red glow. "I, uh… well," he turned to Luna. "I wondered if I could have a private word with Hermione before lights out."

"Yes," Luna said obligingly, "I should check on the Blibbering Humdinger I saw in the garden earlier. He might just come out from under his rock to moonbathe tonight."

Ron shook his head bemusedly as Luna left the room, humming placidly to herself. If the room had felt crowded before, now Hermione felt almost anxious at how small the space had become: between the two narrow beds and the single night table was just a tiny square for her and Ron to stand on. He made no move to sit, and Hermione felt somehow nervous at the idea of seating herself on one of the beds.

"Is everything OK?" she asked, examining his face.

He didn't meet her eyes, and the glowing flush in his ears expanded, reddening his cheeks.

"Yeah, of course, I just… well."

He looked into her eyes, and Hermione felt the bottom drop out of her stomach. There, floating on the surface of his mind so obviously that she didn't need Legilimency to see it, were his feelings for her. His very strong feelings for her.

"Oh," she said stupidly, feeling her Mind's Eye coalescing rapidly as her entire body went rigid. "Ron, I don't –"

Not waiting for her to finish, he stepped forward, closing the small space between them. The room seemed to shrink as his arms wrapped around her and his mouth crashed down onto hers. Breath coming out in rapid spasms through his nostrils, Ron thrust his tongue into her mouth, filling her senses abruptly with the feel and smell and taste of him. And it felt wrong. From the thick, heavy heat of his chest pressed to hers, to the astringent scent of his shaving lotion, to the utterly unfamiliar taste of his spearmint toothpaste. It felt completely and utterly wrong.

She pushed out of his arms, turning her face away as quickly as she could, bringing a hand up to press against her mouth. She only just had the presence of mind to keep herself from wiping both his saliva and his kiss away from her lips.

"'Mione, I love you," he said, his earnest eyes staring into her own, his entire body telegraphing his intentions as he tried to close the space between them again. "I've wanted to tell you for ages, and now you're here and –"

She raised both hands in a halting gesture, and Ron stared at her, confusion slowly replacing the ardour on his face. Hermione took a deep breath, an image flying unbidden across her mind: she and Ron tangled together on one of the beds, their bodies wrapped around one another in the same embrace she and Severus had shared just that morning. The image turned her cold, and she straightened her spine.

"I love you too, Ron," she said, and shook her head when he made to step forward, "but not like that." Hermione felt the sadness building up from her gut, and she let it show on her face. "I'm sorry," she told him, "I really am."

She took a final step back from him, widening the space between them as much as the miniscule room would allow. Ron was staring at her now as though he'd never seen her before, as though she'd said something so nonsensical that all he could do was gape at her. The blush that had suffused his neck, ears and cheeks receded as he grew pale, brows drawing together, eyes narrowing.

"There's someone else." It wasn't a question. Hermione didn't deny it. "Ginny…" he trailed off, and Hermione caught her breath. "Ginny let something slip a while back, after Easter, just in passing. But I didn't…" he trailed off, shaking his head before recapturing the thread of his thoughts. "And Harry has said quite a few things to me about… about –" he paused, his gaze sharpening.

"I won't discuss it now," she said, lining her voice with the strength she felt as her thoughts followed Ron's to land squarely on the dark man. "Or ever. It's really none of your business."

"None of my business?" his voice climbed, and Hermione pointedly cast a silencing spell on the room around them.

Ron glowered at her.

"What, you don't want the others to hear?"

"It's none of their business, either," she answered calmly, raising her chin. "You can lower your voice, or you can watch me cast more silencing spells. I warn you, though. The next one will be on you."

Ron seemed to inflate for a moment, his presence expanding in the room as he widened his stance as if for a fight. Hermione planted her hands on her hips and faced him squarely, using the perfect calm of her Mind's Eye to meet his heated gaze. She knew to wait him out. They stood for a long minute, facing one another across a widening chasm that had opened up months – years – before.

Ron shook his head infinitesimally. He began to deflate. He sat on one of the beds, and Hermione took the other.

"You're mental," he said, leaning forward to put his elbows on his knees as though he were out of breath. She was startled to see a gleam of tears in his eyes. "Completely barmy, you are."

"Maybe so," she couldn't forbear a smile. "But I'm happy." She considered for a moment, the weight of the war descending on her shoulders as it always did when she attempted to contemplate the future. "As happy as I can be right now, anyway."

"I've wanted to tell you, 'Mione… for so long. And now…"

Hermione shrugged and allowed the strongest emotion she felt to come forward within her Mind's Eye as she met Ron's gaze: deep, platonic affection.

"I'm glad you told me," she answered. "And that you've heard my answer. And that we're all… squared up now."

"I dunno," Ron said, a little mutinously, "I don't think I'll ever square up you and…" he trailed off, and Hermione shrugged at his discomfiture. "Anyway, Harry wanted us to go over the plan one more time before bed."

He stood up and held out a hand, which Hermione took a little hesitantly. He pulled her to her feet, let her go, and they both went to find Harry.

A/N 2: We're almost at the end, folks, and I'm hoping to post a little more frequently. We've got four chapters and an epilogue left. My endless revisions are OVER and now I'm feeling at a loss, despite my daily work on my original fic. To that end, please hit me up (either in the review section, or as a pm) with any prompts, plot-bunnies, or other bit and pieces you'd like me to get to next. I have an idea for a medium-length fic, but I'd love to work on something a bit shorter for a while. SSHG only, please.

A/N 3: The world is in a mad spin right now, and I've had so many of you messaging me about how tough things are for you right now, and thanking me for giving you a few moments of relief with my work. I'm so glad to be reaching so many of you, and to be helping in this tiny way. Love and hugs to you all.