Pieces of a Shattered Soul

Pieces of A Shattered Soul

By: Ginnysdarkside

Whenever I look back on that night, it's like some terrifying dream. I can be laying in bed, curled up next to my wife, the children sleeping in the other room, and I will wake up with a start, convinced it is real. Convinced we are still there. Some of the memories are blurred, but after a certain point there is clarity, images that are forever burned in my mind that I could not wipe away even if I wanted to. I remember fighting, running, and the horror when I realized that Voldemort's army was winning. I left no witnesses behind as I killed my fellow death eaters, but was knocked unconscious by an explosion that shook the castle to its foundations. I awoke groggily, not sure how long I had been unconscious, and stumbled through the smoke, dodging falling masonry. The sounds of screams and the laughter of the Death Eaters echoed around me. I was lost, disoriented, unable to recognize where in the castle I was, my dungeon fallen to rubble around me. I passed the bodies of students, bloody, battered, some missing arms and legs. There lay Pomfrey, slain, her body lying over a pair of dismembered Hufflepuffs she no doubt died trying to protect. I fell on some loose flagstones and finally found myself in the stairwell to the Great Hall. That was where I found her. She was lying prone, hardly moving, draped over the body of Ron Weasley, his blue eyes gaping, staring at nothing, a shocked look still upon his face. I thought she was dead too, but then I saw it, a tiny sob which shook her body. It was the first sign of life I had seen anywhere.

I put my hand upon her shoulder, and she startled then scrambled to her feet, backing away from me, not stopping until she reached the cold unforgiving stone of the wall. She didn't recognize me, her features so shell shocked and horrified she was beyond seeing.

"No. Please, please, don't hurt me." Tears were streaming down her face, and wounds marred her fair skin, including a long cut along the side of her jaw through which I could see the ivory glint of bone.

"Quiet or they'll hear you." I hissed. "It's just me, I won't hurt you."

Her eyes focused on me, and I was relieved to see there was still intelligence behind them. Her voice was low and harsh. "Professor Snape?"

"Yes." There was no time to comfort her. Our world had changed forever in a single night, and I could only concentrate on how I, how both of us, could survive this. I grabbed her shoulder. "You must stay calm," I said. "You must trust me, trust me without question. Can you do this?"

She looked up at me and raised her chin, gathering strength from somewhere I cannot fathom. "I trust you, Professor." She can barely stand, but there is courage in her, as she sways on unsteady feet, fortitude in the face of adversity. It is what I would expect from a Gryffindor.

I looked at her once, intently, then picked her up, slinging her over my shoulder like the prisoner she essentially was. I made my way up to the Great Hall and out onto the lawn of the Castle. Outside was chaos. Death Eaters were everywhere in groups, raping, torturing. I saw her friend Miss Granger to one side, her body being defiled by Lucius Malfoy, the Gryffindor long beyond any help we might be able to give her.

"Don't look, whatever you do, don't look." I whispered. But it was too late, she had already seen. I heard her breath choking in her throat as she tried not to cry, as she realized what could be in store for her. "You must struggle against me," I hissed. "They cannot think you want this."

At that, she began to beat her fists upon my back, her voice terrified, pleading with me to let her go, to not hurt her. I knew that it is no act, but merely all her fears coming to the surface. I crossed the lawn to where Voldemort sat in state, his feet propped up on the lifeless corpse of Harry Potter. He held a staff on which Dumbledore's head was impaled. The Headmaster's eyes were wise, even in death, as if he held judgment on those assembled and even from the hereafter could see into their very souls.

I averted my eyes and genuflected before the Dark Lord. I threw her down in a heap in front of me, not bothering to be gentle. The ground is cold and unforgiving, but her eyes met mine for a moment, fierce and determined, and I knew she could do this.

"Your Eminence," I said, making my voice the proper timbre, respectful but not unctuous. I arched an eyebrow. "I found this one in the dungeons. Weasley's daughter. You remember."

He laughed, cold and cruel, and I saw her shudder. "Ah yes. She is the one who had my diary, is she not?" He reached down and forced her to look up at him. Her eyes widened with unfeigned terror, and she whimpered low in her throat as he ran a claw-like hand along the side of her neck. His voice was thoughtful. "She is quite stunning, Severus. A worthy prize for any man." He noted her still intact clothes and looked up at me. "And as yet, untouched."

"Yes, master," I told him, knowing I must word this perfectly, or all was lost. "Master, I have been a good and loyal servant all these years."

He smiled, and it was hideous to see, but I did not avert my eyes. "Yes, Severus, yes, you have. You hid your true allegiance well over the years." He stretched out his arm and absently patted Dumbledore's head. "He never really knew, did he?"

"No, Master," I said. "I told him only what you wanted him to know." That was not the truth, yet despite the fact that I had warned Dumbledore of this attack, it had all been in vain. If I was to keep my own head, no one could ever know the truth. No one was left who knew, save myself and the girl at my feet. To save us both, I could be a monster, would be a monster for the rest of my life if I had to, taking comfort in the fact I could at least save her.

"You have done well, Severus. Our order shall rule the wizarding world from now till time eternal. Already our brethren have overturned the ministry. The Muggleborns will be sought out and slaughtered as will any sympathizers. We have already killed her parents. Our most recent convert was only happy to show his loyalty by severing his familial ties. Imagine their horror to discover their own son was a Death Eater."

"No, you're lying!" she screamed. Instantly I grabbed her and slapped her hard. Her head jerked back, and she recoiled from me in fear, but I grabbed her tightly by the arm and pulled her to her feet.

"You will not speak unless spoken to, girl." I growled. "Not unless you wish to share your friend's fate." I forced her to look on the lifeless bodies all around her, and she began to shake. I feared that she would retreat into a state of shock, that she would lose her faculties, but once again she surprised me.

She faced me, eyes blazing with anger. "You bastard, I would rather die than be with you."

I laughed, and the sound was terrifying even to my own ears. "That can be arranged, Pet."

She struggled against me, but I forced her down to her knees, facing the Dark Lord. "Give her to me, my Lord, and I will be your servant forever. I will make her mine, force her to my will, teach her my perversions, and so in time she too shall be your servant, whether she wishes to or not."

"Never!" she screamed.

Then the Dark Lord struck like a cat, like lightning, pulling her to him, his hands around her neck, choking her. He brought his hideous face close to hers, his red eyes terrifying in their intensity. "Your world is at an end, girl. You will do as I say or I will kill you now." He pressed harder on her throat, and I could hear her struggling desperately for breath as her fingers clawed at his hands.

He waited until the last second, just as her pupils started to dilate, then let her go, pushing her to the ground at my feet. She struggled for breath, great gasps that wracked her body. I wanted nothing more than to take her away from there, but I knew it was not finished.

Voldemort stood and pinned her to the ground in front of me with his boot. "Please," she begged. "I want to die, just let me die." Her hands clawed into the dirt, and I knew she spoke the truth. I would not, however, allow it. I needed her, needed someone who would see me in the time to come as something besides a monster.

The Dark Lord looked up at me and smiled. "Death is too good for her. She wants it too badly. No. I think this punishment is much more fitting. You shall have her, Severus. I give her to you as a bride." She howled in protest, and he moved his boot onto her hand, crushing the fragile bones, slowly, agonizingly. "Pledge your allegiance to your husband, girl. Pledge it now, or I will not stop at your hand."

But she was not through, she suppressed her screams and spat out between clenched teeth, "You can't do this. I won't."

"Your desires have no bearing here," said Voldemort. "I can and I will. I am the supreme power in your world now. I am your world." He slowly stepped on her other hand, and she screamed, loud agonized cries of rage and pain, then groveled at my feet.

"I swear, I swear," she sobbed. Her voice was distorted by pain. "I will be yours."

Voldemort took his seat and looked pleased. "Now that's what I like to see, such a touching display of devotion." He clicked his tongue against his teeth, the motion unsettling, like a snake ready to strike. Now, Severus, aren't you going to kiss your bride?"

I brought her to her feet, trying to be gentle without seeming to. Tears streaked her cheeks, but she didn't avert her face when I pressed my lips against hers. Something made me whisper to her, into her lips so the Dark Lord could not hear. "I will not fail you, I promise."

She looked up at me, and I could tell she did not fully comprehend anything that was happening to her anymore, but she nodded then grew limp in my arms as she finally passed into unconsciousness. It was as if she had been waiting to hear those words before allowing herself relief from the torment.

I picked her up in my arms and faced the Dark Lord. "Thank you my Lord, I will never forget this. I have long desired her youth and beauty to be mine."

"We are kings now, Severus. All we have ever wished shall be ours." His eyes traveled to the girl I held in my arms. "You have chosen well and shown restraint. You will have many years of pleasure from her, instead of a single night. I wish everyone ..." his eyes traveled inexplicably to Lucius. "Showed such foresight. She has fire in her. Fire that when quelled can be twisted to our service." He dismissed me with a wave of his hand. "Now go. Enjoy your bride. Our work here is at an end. I will summon you when you are needed."

I took a few strides away and then Apparated. I went to the only place I could think of. Hogwarts had been my home for many years, and my childhood home a wretched tenement I dared not think of, but there was a place where for a short time I had once been happy. It was a place where no one would think to look for us, and it was there where I took her.

The village by the sea was still shrouded in darkness, and the old Muggle woman who ran the inn came running out when I pounded on the door. I had transfigured our robes into Muggle clothes, but I knew we were hideous, bloody and bruised, still smelling of smoke and destruction. I knew in this place there would be no questions, and the woman accepted my story of a car driven into a ditch and then exploding into flames without question. We were honeymooners, I told her, on our way to a more popular tourist destination. She eyed the clearly much younger woman in my arms but merely nodded and took the money I gave her then showed us to a quiet suite of rooms. Once inside, I bolted the doors and windows with a locking charm and settled Ginny on the bed.

I healed her wounds then wrapped her crushed hands with bandages and set them with a spell. My hands shook as I gently cleaned the blood from her face with a warm cloth, before going into the bathroom and tending to myself.

When I returned, she was out of bed, looking out the window to the sea far below. "I should have died," she whispered. "I should have let them kill me." She looked up at me. "Why did you save me? Why risk yourself for me?"

I stood at a distance, watching her from the doorway. "Because I needed to know there was someone I could save."

She nodded then, and we stood in silence for a long while, until finally I took her hand and made her get back into bed. I took a pillow and prepared to sleep on the couch, but she shook her head and grabbed my arm, her eyes silently entreating me. So I spent that night on the bed, sleeping atop the covers while she rested in the circle of my arms. Her hair smelled of smoke, and a little strand of it kept tickling the side of my neck. I looked down at her then and knew I would never let any harm come to her. She was my one chance at redemption, and I would give my soul, my very life so she could live.

Days passed. Ginny was silent, eating her meals when I coerced her to, taking a bath only when I forced her into the tub physically, averting my eyes while I helped her undress. She was like a child for a while, unable to speak, unable to do the simplest task. I let her be, didn't push her, knowing it would take time for her to come to terms with all of this. Not just the deaths of her parents and her brothers, the one closest to her in age, Ron, dying before her very eyes no doubt, but the end of the world as she knew it. The Muggle woman who owned the hotel brought us clothes and food, asking no questions, not even how much longer we would be staying. Each night I would sleep in bed beside her. It felt uneasy, awkward to have a young girl warm at my side. But she refused to go to sleep unless I joined her. She would lay there staring at me as I sat beside the fire, until finally I would join her with a scowl, and she would snuggle up against me and fall asleep with a weary sigh.

It was on the fifth day when my mark flared into life. The pain seared into my arm, causing my teeth to clench. I turned to her quickly. "I have to go, but I'll be back. I promise." Ginny nodded, but didn't look up from the window, and I left with an uneasy feeling. Outside, I walked far enough away so I could Apparate without attracting notice. In the distance I could see our window. She was leaning out watching me walk away, her red hair blowing in the wind.

The gathering was long and arduous. Voldemort had rounded up all the resisters that were left. They were tortured for the names of others. To this day, I have never told Ginny what happened to her brother Bill, only that he was one of them. He was put under the Cruciatus curse again and again, but would not speak. I saw his eyes meet mine, but he clenched his teeth against the pain and never spoke, even when they severed his hand. Finally I waved irritably at MacNair who was torturing him.

"You are incompetent, you fool. Leave us and let me talk with him. Perhaps if I threaten his sister, he will have something interesting to say." Bill's eyes grew wide at my words, but he remained silent until I knelt beside him.

"You've seen Ginny?" he asked.

"She is safe," I told him. "Voldemort let her live on the condition she would serve me." I held up my hand. "I will not hurt her, I swear to you. It was the only way that he would let her live."

He looked up at me, and his eyes were filled with sorrow. "They're all dead then, except Percy."

My voice was cold. "His days are numbered my friend. I promise you that. He will pay."

He nodded once, accepting the fact of his traitorous brother's imminent death, and I could see he was getting weak from loss of blood. "Promise me Snape," he said, averting his eyes as if I threatened him. "Promise me two things."

"Anything."

"Promise me that no matter what, my sister will live, and that you won't let her forget how much we all loved her. She has no one now; promise me you'll take care of her always."

I could feel myself starting to shake, but I remained calm. "It will be done, what is the other thing?"

He smiled at me in thanks, tears shimmering in his eyes. He was shivering now, his lips turning grey. He looked up at me and whispered. "Kill me, Severus. Please. Kill me and give me peace." He closed his eyes then and never felt the curse I cast. It was the only comfort I could give him.

When I finally left, I was hardly able to walk. It was difficult to Apparate, and I barely made it safely to the hotel. It was nearly morning, the first streaks of dawn coloring the horizon, and as I slowly made my way up the driveway of the hotel, I heard the sound of running feet.

It was her. She had been watching from the window, all night, as I was later to discover. She hit me with the force of a train, nearly knocking me over, throwing her arms around me. "You came back," she said. "I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't come back."

I stroked her hair and whispered comforting words into her soft tresses. I murmured things I hadn't known I was capable of, but somehow it felt as if the spirit of Bill had entered me, giving me a little of his compassion and love.

She noted then how weak I was and guided me up the stairs, helping me into the bed as I had once done for her. She must have sensed something was wrong, because she asked me. "Who was there? Who did they find?"

I sighed. "Tonks. Mundungus Fletcher." My voice shook with suppressed rage. I had not liked either person, but we had worked together. I hated my selfish coal black heart for being the one still standing, but my survival instincts would not let me die, no matter the cost. "There was nothing I could do," I said bitterly. "And Ginny. I'm sorry, but your brother Bill was there."

There was no crying, no despair, only silent acceptance on her face. "Did he say anything?" she asked finally.

"He said to tell you they all love you and that they always will. He told me to take care of you."

She nodded, and at my words a slow trickle of tears streamed down her cheeks. "Thank you for telling me," she said. She wiped away the tears with angry hands and looked down at me. "My mourning is complete now. There can be no more tears. Tonight I sat here in front of the window, fearing you might never return. You told me you needed someone to save. I need a reason to live."

I nodded not quite understanding, and she continued. "You have given me that reason. I see the strength in you and know I can get through this. You will not be alone, Professor Snape. I want you to teach me what I need to know. Teach me what I need to do. We will work together you and I, and someday they shall all suffer at our hands."

My heart lifted at her words. She was right. I could not look upon this entirely as selfishness. I knew we were alone against him, but someday, somehow there would be a chance to defeat him, and we would bide our time until that day, pretending all the while to serve him, as I had always done.

I looked up at her. She was sitting on the bed beside me, looking down at me fiercely, her brown eyes lit up from the inside. She was not who I would have chosen to be with me at the end, but sometimes the most unexpected things are the right ones.

We worked together then. She needed to be skilled in cruelty, in subterfuge, if we were to have a hope that Voldemort would really believe she was now one of us. We moved into a deserted house in Hogsmeade, and if the local farmers noted that their flocks were losing numbers at an alarming rate, they were too afraid to speak of it. The world was still chaos. The Muggleborns had been hunted down, picked off one by one, and those Purebloods who weren't in league with Voldemort were too afraid to do anything. They sat in their houses, hands over their eyes, doing nothing, as if hoping to awake and find it all a horrible dream. Hogwarts was destroyed. The Purebloods by and large had been spared, save for those whose families had been staunch supporters of Dumbledore. Hence the Weasleys, the Bones, and many like them were wiped out of existence, while the Patils, the Boots, and others still lived on.

Ginny learned to kill under my tutelage, animals at first, and she went about it with a frightening intensity. It saddened me to see her changing. She was only sixteen, not even a woman, but circumstances had made her old before her time. Voldemort asked after her often and was pleased when I told him lies of how devoted she was becoming to me, how she was slowly twisting into a former shadow of herself, a woman who loved pain and violence.

It was partly true I realized, with a shiver, as she looked up at me, her hands stained with blood, her eyes narrowed. "Professor, I think I'm ready to move on. I think it's time we paid a call on my brother Percy. Don't you?"

I knew it had to be done. My promise to Bill stood out in my mind, and I knew Ginny would not rest until he had suffered at her hands. It was Percy that killed her parents, and also Percy, I had found out by then, who had admitted Voldemort and his legion into the school that fateful night.

We paid a call on him that evening. No one heard his screams, no one heard his begging. It was Ginny that cast the final curse, her face the last image he ever was to see. They never found his body. Only we know where his slowly rotting remains still lay, and we will take the secret to our graves.

Voldemort searched for him briefly then decided he had become cowardly and moved on. He asked me to bring Ginny to the next revel so he could see how my "wife" had grown. She moved into the crowd of Death Eaters like a queen, her red hair tumbling around her shoulders. Her beauty was cold, and I could hear the others whispering around us from the moment we arrived. I saw the Malfoys staring at us in consternation, Draco angrily indicating her to his father. The two of them stepped in front of us, blocking our path.

"So, Severus," Lucius drawled, "I see you finally bring your concubine to revel."

Draco smirked and his eyes roamed over Ginny's body knowingly. "Care to share, Professor?" he asked.

I was about to answer when Ginny spoke up. Her voice was frigid and contemptuous, the word dripping poison, and I realized with a shock that she sounded just like me. "Thank you for the offer, Draco. But I'm afraid I'd be too much for you, you see, I need a real man, not a little boy trailing in his father's shadow."

Then to my complete and utter shock, she turned to me and reaching up with one hand, brought my head down to hers and kissed me. It was a long, wet, sensual kiss. Since that one short peck on that terrible night, we had never come close to doing anything other than casual touching. Her lips were soft, her velvety tongue wet and hot, and I groaned into her mouth. To my horror, I could feel myself becoming aroused, despite the surrounding circle of death eaters. I ran my hands up her back, enjoying the feel of her spine under my hands, knowing this meant nothing to her, but not caring just the same.

"Ginny," I whispered.

"I know what I'm doing," she said. She turned around and looked at the two Malfoys who were staring at us with something akin to disgust on their faces. "Now, are you two going to let us pass? Or are we going to stand here and discuss the weather?"

Draco started to step aside, but Lucius stopped him. "Oh yes, Ms. Weasley ... or is it Snape now?" He looked at me, a sneer twisting his patrician features. "I never properly congratulated you on your nuptials Severus. Then again it was a hectic time for everyone. And what a change seems to have come over your bride." He arched an eyebrow. "Who ever would have thought it?"

I sneered. "I can be very persuasive, Lucius, if you remember correctly."

"Yes, yes I suppose you can." He smiled mockingly and turned back to Ginny offering her his arm. "Now, what's say you and I have a little sport? Get you into the swing of things?" He guided her off to where a crowd was gathered, and I felt sick to my stomach. Please let her be strong. I thought. If she could prove herself a few times, she would have the freedom to stay back at these things and leave the killing and the torture to those who truly enjoyed it. I could only hope my instruction had been enough. If anyone even suspected a lie, we would both die.

I brushed past Draco and served myself a glass of wine. That was when I heard a woman scream. My heart leapt to my throat for a moment, but then I realized it wasn't her. I managed to push my way through the curious throng, at the center of which stood Lucius and Ginny. Lucius was staring at her in surprise, watching her laugh while an elderly Muggle woman writhed in pain at her feet. Finally the spell ended with a wave of her wand, and the woman crumpled to the ground, grabbing at Ginny's boots with frantic hands.

"Please my lady, let me go, please don't hurt me again, please."

Ginny cocked her head and, in a wintry tone that would have put Narcissa Malfoy to shame, said, "Oh you can do better than that can't you?" She looked at Lucius, not breaking character for a moment. "This one's boring, Lucius, don't you have another?"

If he was shocked at her using his first name he didn't show it. He was too busy looking at her as if seeing her for the first time. He smiled at her, a genuine smile, as if recognizing a kindred spirit. He shot me an approving glance as if for once amazed I had done something right, then took Ginny's arm and guided her away. "Well, Mrs. Snape, let's see what we can find."

They were gone for a long time. When they came back, Lucius had the look of a man who has enjoyed a rousing torture session. Ginny was cool and collected, but only one intimately familiar with her every gesture, such as I, would recognize the slight tightening around her lips for what it was. I joined them, and she put her arm in mine, chattering like a girl after a dance.

"Oh, Severus, you missed it. It was really quite moving wasn't it Lucius?" She laughed. "The way the fat one begged. Quite the talker he was, but Lucius had the final word in the end."

We were standing there, talking of torture as people talk about Quidditch at a cocktail party, when Voldemort beckoned. I pulled Ginny to his dais, and the two of us knelt in front of him. I could feel her arm trembling just slightly in my own and knew she was remembering the last time she had been at his feet.

"You have done well, Severus. She is everything you said, an asset to our group, cruel and cold, and as beautiful as the setting sun." He smiled at her then, a baring of teeth that was a smile in name only. "Will you swear your allegiance to me? As your husband has and as you have to him?"

Ginny held her head up. "I will not pretend this has been easy, my Lord. But Severus has helped me see the error of my ways. I will serve you."

The Dark Lord bent over her, held out his hand for hers, and then pushed up her sleeve, touching her soft white skin with his foul hands. It was hard for me to let him do it, hard to know what was to happen, but I saw no other alternative.

In an instant it was done. The Dark Mark was hideous on her flesh, marking the satiny skin of her forearm forever more. Branding her a demon, a monster, but be there no mistake that in my eyes she will always be an angel, going down among the devils because there is no Heaven anymore.

He kissed her then on the forehead, and she swore to follow him. She did not scream or pull away from the pain of the mark. Head held high, she accepted it like it was nothing, when many a man had dissolved into tears as the dark spell was cast forever on their body. But when he kissed her, she squeezed my hand so hard it bruised for days, and I knew for her that was the true test.

We left shortly after that and made our way back to the house in Hogsmeade. She was shaking now, finally letting it all out after holding the emotions of the evening deep inside. When we entered the door, she dissolved into tears. It was the first time she had cried since Bill had died. We sank down on the couch, and I held her against my chest as she wept. Painfully aware, as if for the first time, that the woman was no longer a little girl.

As if reading my thoughts she looked up at me. "Did you know today is my birthday?" she asked. She ran her hand up the sleeve of my robe. "I am seventeen today. Do you know what that means?"

I shook my head, but inside I knew what she was saying. It terrified me, but the memory of her kiss was still fresh on my lips, as was the desire it instilled in me.

She looked up at me, the tears dried on her cheeks, her eyes dark with sorrow. "It means I can do this." She kissed me again, and this time I kissed her back with equal longing. I took her face in my hands, slid them around to her neck, and wrapped my fingers in her hair. The red tresses were like the finest silk. I thought of all the nights spent in her bed, her hair soft against my neck, her body warm against mine, and I realized that it had all led up to this.

We sat there on the sofa for some time, kissing in the firelight, learning the shape, the feel, of each other's mouths. Her hands were soft on my chest, and I crushed her to me desperately, as if afraid she would melt away into a dream. With a groan I moved down to her jaw, placed a line of kisses along the long white scar that would never fade, no matter how many charms she tried over the years. She pulled away from me and stood up, holding out her hand, and I let her lead me to the bedroom.

I closed the door behind us. She was looking at me, her eyes fixed on mine, never taking them off of me for a moment. She slid her robes off and stood facing me in nothing but her underclothes.

"Ginny." My voice broke. I hated myself for hesitating, but I didn't want to take advantage of her.

She shook her head. "Don't think. Just feel." Her words filled me with desperate longing. It had been an eternity since anyone had looked at me like that, with desire, not with loathing, trusting in me implicitly, offering nothing and everything all at the same time.

I took her in my arms and kissed her. I could feel the passion mounting in me, and she kissed me back, hard and soft, bitter and sweet. I ran my hands down the bare skin of her back gently, as one would touch a frightened animal. She arched into my touch, and her fingers began to unbutton my robes, sliding them off my shoulders, her lips following a path down my neck and my collar bones to my chest. Her hands trailed down my back and slid around my waistband to my trouser buttons. Her eyes grew wide as she felt my hardness straining against the fabric, but then in an instant, my pants were on the floor and she was holding me gently in one hand.

Her touch was almost too much, her hand soft and delicate on my arousal. With a groan I picked her up and carried her to the bed, setting her down on top of the coverlet, covering her skin with kisses, letting my lips and hands explore every inch of her. I removed her camisole and with a sigh cupped her breasts in my palms and took one of her nipples in between my lips.

"Severus ..." Her voice was tight, and I looked up to see her staring at me, her eyes glazed with desire. "I need you," she said.

I pulled off her panties and set them aside. She was ready, hot and moist, and I groaned as she parted her legs and I positioned myself over her. Her hands guided me, eager, wanting, her lips parted. I started to enter her and then stopped, looking at her discerningly.

"You've never done this before." The thought terrified me. I could not bear to hurt her, and the thought that she had never even experienced the sweetness of her first time before her world turned upside down grieved me more than I could bear. I started to pull away, but she stopped me.

"No." Her voice was insistent. "I want you. You want me. We are together. Don't you see? We're all that's left." She took her face in my hands and kissed me. "We are together now. We are the survivors, and we must do what survivors always do in the end. We go on. We live."

I looked down at her. She looked grave and was so beautiful that it broke my heart. I took my time with her then, and when I finally slid inside her, pushing past her barrier, she didn't flinch, didn't cry out, only whispered my name and began to move against me. I realized then, that we were meant to be like this, lovers, partners, two people patching together the pieces of their shattered souls, piece by delicate piece, together making a whole.

She lay in my arms later that night. Her naked body was soft against mine, her skin like satin. "Severus?"

"Yes?"

"I want us to be married."

So we were. We went in secret. Knocked on a Vicar's door in Dorset the next morning and were married in a Muggle ceremony, witnessed only by the Vicar's wife and maid. I slid a ring onto her finger and promised to cherish and keep her till the end of my days, and when she looked into my eyes and repeated the words, I knew what hope was.

Time went on. Voldemort had given all his loyal supporters the title of Lord and entitled on me an estate that once belonged to the Clearwaters. We lived there, in England, for a while. The neighboring villagers called us Lord and Lady Snape and lived in fear of us. When things calmed down, and Voldemort was secure in his relentless grip on our world, he allowed us to leave, to make a life elsewhere, with the condition we be at his command if ever we were needed. We moved to France. To a tiny town in Provence where no one knew or cared to know who we were. The Muggles that surrounded us knew little of the wizarding world or the turmoil which had shaken it to its foundations. The French have known war and conflict, have rebuilt from it each time stronger than before, and know to look the other way from pain and loss, so were able to live there in solitude, only returning to England occasionally at Voldemort's command.

We had children there, three of them, and we were happy in our way. There were times when I would see Ginny outside in the sunlight, sketching or teaching the children how to play quidditch, when I could almost forget there was any other way to live, that there was a time when all in the wizarding world had lived without fear, without having to bow down to a monster. Our children went to Beauxbatons and grew up speaking French. They were in a place where the name Snape was not spoken with fear or loathing, where they were just another child wanting to learn. Voldemort never asked after them, seemingly content to know the father and the mother were his loyal servants. We would come to his revels and kill for him, would look down upon the multitudes and sneer, would be the loyal heartless killers he wanted, until he tired of the game for a time, and we could go back to our home and pretend for a while at least that the other side of our life was only a horrid dream. When all the children were in school it was just the two of us. I would work on Potions in my laboratory, while she wrote or read or worked in the garden. In the future, we both hoped, things would be different. Some day there would be one who would end this reign of terror, and we would be there to help when they did, or our children would. Two boys and a girl, who grew up speaking the name of Voldemort with reverential lips, but inside, hiding the hatred, nursing it like a banked fire, the way their parents had taught them.

I was always gentle with Ginny, and she with me, as if hoping somehow to make up for the terror and the pain, but there were nights when we would wake up from the dreams, or come home after a trip to England, when we would copulate like beasts. Her legs wrapped around my waist, her nails clawing in my back, while I drove into her like a man possessed, until she would climax, screaming my name, her body shuddering and welcoming my seed as I spilled over into her with a shout. We would lie there afterwards, and I would stroke her hair and kiss her forehead, and be thankful that I had her.

One night we were lying in our bed, and she rolled over and looked at me in the candlelight. "Severus," she said.

I reached out to touch her cheek, with gentle fingers. "Yes, my love?"

"I never thanked you for that night. For saving me."

We had never spoken of it. In all this time, it was the one subject that we could never analyze, never voice, despite the long conversations we often had late into the night. In her I had found an equal. A woman I could talk to and plot with, who understood me. She had never expected anything I was not willing to give, and because of that I had given her more than I ever thought I would.

The words were hard for me to say. "Do you ever wish things were different? Do you ever regret being the only one left?"

She shook her head. "No. Not since that first night, and I'm not alone. I have you." Her eyes grew wet with tears, and her voice dropped into a whisper, the next words so low, I had to strain to hear them. "I love you, Severus."

I stared at her. She was so beautiful; I could feel my heart swelling just from looking at her. In all my dreams I never would have thought something so wondrous could be mine. But I, and she, had paid a terrible price for this happiness. In fifteen years we had never spoken those words to each other. In time, every action had spoken of them, little things, a look, a touch, a laugh, all of them saying the words we could not articulate.

I kissed her, my wife, my love, my one reminder that I am a man and not a monster. I kissed her then and whispered soft and low. "I have loved you since that moment on the stairs."