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Mission Impossible	By : CryingCinderella Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 11774 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter nor do I make any money from writing these stories.

Chapter List
- 17
- 18
A/N: I found my muse. This is the final chapter of this story.

The knocking was soft at first, hardly heard. And then it was more urgent, growing louder. Albus Dumbledore had not afforded himself much sleep after the blunt dismissal from Severus’ chambers. With a frown and heavy footsteps he approached his chamber door and pulled it open. Dawn had hardly begun to kiss the castle grounds when Minerva McGonagall had arrived at the headmaster’s chambers, but there she stood, tartan dressing robe draped tightly around her figure. Her face was pale, her eyes wide and bleary as if she had cried the whole night through. In her hand she clutched a vial, the telltale silver liquid swirling against the glass.

            Albus sighed slowly and opened the door to allow her to enter. With a wave of his wand his chambers glowed with a warm and inviting fire. It took him only a moment to draw a large stone basin from a shelf against the far wall. He placed the pensieve on the coffee table of his main sitting room and sat down on the sofa, gazing up at the weary-eyed woman. No words passed between them as she took a seat beside him and clutched onto his hand, squeezing it tightly. She carefully unstoppered the vial and then poured the contents into the basin, watching the silver swirl around and ripple as the glass emptied. Neither looked at each other, but they simply held their breath and waited.

            He was the first to move, shifting slightly forward to dip his head into the pensieve, feeling the strong pull of memories untold tugging at his being. Minerva followed suit and within a mere moment they had both spiraled into the memories Severus Snape had left them.

            “You cannot change my mind on the matter,” she said firmly. She had rested. And then fled to the lab to gather the necessary materials. It would be difficult to maintain the containment spell but with any amount of luck it would hold and the transfer would have just enough time to complete from one body to another before it would give way. She crossed her arms over her chest. “I’ve made my decision and it is final, so let’s stop pretending there’s another way out.”

            Severus said nothing. He refused to catch her gaze, refused to acknowledge her. When she’d left he’d again attempted to barricade himself inside the sleeping chambers but with little success as she’d easily broken his wards. While strengthened from his returned sight and the miniscule amount of blood in the potion, his magic was still weak, hardly what it once was. A simple containment charm as she drained his body of the tainted blood would keep him alive just long enough for her to transfer her clean blood into his body. The thought had crossed her mind that perhaps she could partially transfer her body’s blood, but it occurred to her that in such a weakened state she would likely pass out from loss of blood before his body could reproduce enough of her good blood and the end result would not turn pleasant for either party involved.

            The only chance she had to save him was to give up her life for him. It had caused her great anguish as she had retreated to rest, mulling over any other possible option. But in the end there was no other conclusion to be had; it had to be done, for the greater good. Her heart throbbed with pain, it was frightening to know she would die, not knowing what awaited her on the other side of the cold hands of death. But she found strength in her resolve to save the world, to give him a fighting chance and thus there she stood, having closed the bedroom door to prevent his escape.

            He was seated on the edge of the bed, his eyes closed. It was a nightmare. And perhaps if he kept his eyes closed long enough he would be roused and find himself alone in the cabin. That she had never come at all, that he had never encountered Hermione Granger, but such thoughts were pipedreams. He was the one meant for a life of sacrifice. His life did not matter and if he died so be it. It was not meant to be the other way around. No one needed to give up their life to save his, certainly not the young innocent girl whom he’d grown to harbor feelings for at any rate. Severus stiffened when he felt her hand against his shoulder followed by the mattress depressing with her weight.

            Hermione let her fingers slide gently down his arm until they rested over his hand and her cheek settled against his shoulder. His scent was strong; the manly musk she had almost grown familiar of during their encounters. Fond memories danced behind her eyelids as she flashed through their trysts, always longing for one moment more every time they parted. Tears began to slip from her eyes though she could not help them as they fell, trying so hard to think of happier times; managing only to realize that those happy times were all behind her to never be happy again.

            “Do not do this,” he whispered softly, never turning his head, never moving his face to gaze upon her. His voice was broken. As broken as the day she had first encountered him. But he was so much stronger, practically healed. She knew, however, it was only a matter of time before the curse would begin to claim him once more. Her window of opportunity to save him was small and quickly growing smaller. She took his hand in hers and squeezed his fingers.

            “Tell me…” her words were soft.

            Severus slowly lifted his head and turned it until he faced her. He could see the tears in her eyes and struggled with every ounce of his being to fight back his own. “What,” he said trying to create a distance between them even if it was only with his words.

            “Of the encounter we’ll have…” she trailed off and allowed herself a ghost of a smile, her lips parting slightly.

            “No, Hermione I will not do—”

            “Please,” she whispered and squeezed his hand once more, her eyes falling closed as tears once more streamed down her cheeks.

            Two strong hands cupped her cheeks and pulled her forward. His lips pressed roughly against hers and Hermione whimpered, falling into his kiss. Severus threaded his fingers through her hair, pulling her close, letting his tongue press into her mouth as he felt her tiny hands against his shoulder. Tongues dueled against one another; his lips claiming hers, a searing kiss sending wave after wave of intense heat flushing through her body. Her chest began to heave, her lungs tingling as she returned his kiss, eagerly tasting his lips; the salty sweet unique taste of his tongue as it caressed hers, the way he explored her mouth as if he had loved her a thousand nights before, knowing her more intimately than any other man before him.

            Her body was pulled closer against him; his fingers having trailed down her pack to gather her figure in tighter. She wriggled and whimpered, leaning into him at the awkward angle until finally he shifted and slid back, leaning back against the headboard, his legs up on the bed. Hermione was half leaned into his lap until he pushed her back, letting her fall against the bed, his lips still locked in a heated kiss. Fingers began to stroke her skin, every touch sending a tingle of electricity through her body. Her fingers tangled in his hair, a soft as she had remembered it from their last encounter. She cried out, breaking their kiss as she felt him slide his figure atop her body, his hardened length against her abdomen. In that moment she longed to feel him, to touch him and know him as she had before.

            Severus muttered soft words against her ear but she could not understand him. The blood was rushing in her ears, her heart was pounding, her chest heaving. And suddenly she was chilled, the room’s icy air sweeping across her naked body. He had divested her with a simple spell. She felt the blush fill her cheeks but it quickly spread further down her body as his hands began to roam over her naked figure. She felt his warm body atop her, and he too was naked. Hermione groaned, arching her hips against him, tugging his head down to hers to lock her lips once more in a heated kiss. Their bodies writhed against one another as she moaned and whimpered, feeling his slick tongue against hers, and then alongside her neck. His hands cupped her breasts, squeezing them and massaging them, his fingers flicking at her nipples.

            He pulled despite her whimpered protest and struggled for only a moment with the heavy doona beneath them before pulling it over them. Beneath the covers he once more laid his body atop hers, grinding his hips hard against her. She moaned, his length straining against her flesh, which was slick with arousal. “Please…” she whimpered, spreading her legs and wrapping them around his hips. “Please, Severus, I need you…” she babbled.

            Crushing his lips to her once more he shifted his hips until his throbbing tip was nudging her entrance. Several thrusts of his hips had him pushed fully inside of her and she groaned when at first he did not move. Her eyes were wide and swimming with a mixture of pleasure, desire and watery tears. Severus pressed his lips to each of her eyelids and then brought his mouth to the edge of her ear. “It will be just like this…you crying out…me teasing you…our bodies just like this…” he whispered. “Again and again…”

            Her body convulsed as a wave of pleasure shot through her; he began a tantalizingly slow withdraw. He had always been long and thick and achingly hard but she had never felt him fill her so fully. She groaned trying to buck her hips to encourage him, desperately needing to feel him pumping into her. “Severus,” she panted, leaning up the slightest bit on her elbows, eyes trying to catch his in the dimness of the room. “Please…” she whispered and pressed a gentle but impatient kiss against his lips.

            His chuckle was almost mirthful, the smile barely gracing his lips. It would be the last time she would beg him. The last time he would hear her cry out his name in aching pleasure. But he would not allow that sorrow to consume him as he thrust into her. The carnal beast that drove him took over in that moment and he began to pump wildly into her sex, forcing his length harder and harder as he quickened his pace.

            Hermione was shrieking with pleasure, dragging her nails up and down his back, holding him closer to her, letting his body completely envelop hers. She didn’t want to lose contact in any place. She needed to feel his skin on hers; everywhere. Again their lips met as he drove into her with wild abandon, growling into their kiss, her moans captured in his mouth. She was shaking and panting and within moments her toes curled and her whole body seized. Hermione’s walls clenched tightly against his throbbing member, her orgasm tearing through her body like an explosion of light. Every inch of her being was ablaze with rapture and for a moment she couldn’t see anything. He continued to thrust, harder and faster and then growled his release; feeling his cock explode within her. His hot release spurted within her, his own body trembling as he came.

            Within moments they had both finished and he fell without ceremony against her heaving chest. His hair was slick with sweat as was his body and for a moment he laid there, eyes closed, his ear nestled between her breasts; the sound of her racing heartbeat lulling him from consciousness. Hermione wrapped her arms around him tightly, desperately frightened to feel him pull away. The sticky warmth where their bodies were still conjoined trickled down her thighs but she held her legs still, not wanting to feel him slip from her body. The chill of the room that should have crept upon them was abated and dispelled by the warm doona overtop of them. Hermione closed her eyes, gently kissing his nose, his cheek, his lips. She could feel her heartbeat beginning to slow.

            Severus did not wish to move. To stay as he was with the beautiful witch gently resting beneath him would have placated him until his death. But an overwhelming sense of dread bubbled in his stomach as he thought about blood for the first time since she had decided she was to end her life in order to save his. He forced his eyes closed tightly and tried to focus on the rhythmic sound of her breathing; the sweet slick sensation of being nestled between her legs post orgasm. But all he could hear was the beating of her heart and the rushing of blood through her veins. Struggling against the inner demon and reluctantly lifted his head from her chest and placed a chaste kiss upon her lips.

            Tears once more began to form in her eyes as she slowly shifted her legs to release him. He rolled over and lay on his back, unable to meet her gaze. She was careful to wrap the sheet around her as she stood from the bed, going to fetch the equipment. Hermione bit her lower lip and steeled herself against second thoughts. With a few murmured incantations she had managed to cast a containment spell around his being.

            Her fingers trembled as she leaned over the bed and took his arm in her hand. The needle prick was sharp but he did not wince. Blood the color of black roses began to drip against his alabaster skin and for a moment she shuddered, hesitating. But with a ragged breath she pulled a secondary needle from her tiny hoard of supplies and inserted it where she pricked his flesh. The tube connecting to the needle quickly filled with blood and she held her thumb against the end to keep the flow staunched for the moment. She made quick work with shaky hands of setting up a similar needle and tube in his other arm, only this tube did not gush blood, rather waited to receive it, almost like an IV. Tears trickled down her nose as she released her thumb from the first tube. His blood began to flow freely, spilling over his arm, onto the bed, and dripping onto the floor.

            Hermione could not watch as his face drained of color, his chest slowed. Blood dripped from him until the last drop splattered against the floor. She carefully removed the drainage tube and whimpered trying not to gaze upon him. The containment spell would keep him alive but it would only last long enough for her blood to replenish him. Gingerly she climbed into the bed, her body shaking with sobs as she laid flat on her back. She gripped his tightly and then pricked her arm with the needle, quickly adhering the tube to its end, connecting it to his receiving tube. Her blood, the bright color of red, flowed steadily from the needle into the IV tube and then disappeared beneath his skin. She began to feel chilled, and her heart rate quickened. Her lips trembled as the blood continued to drain from her body.

            Severus squeezed her hand tightly, feeling her squeeze back but with every passing second her grip grew weaker. He too was weak, hardly able to do more than squeeze her hand, but he managed to tilt his head to the side and gaze upon her. She had turned her head to face him, her eyes frightened and watery, her lips quaking as they slowly drained of their color. She parted her lips to speak, “I did this with love…” her voice was so frail almost inaudible.

            He longed to rip the tube from her arm, but he did not possess the strength. Surely what of her blood he had received would be enough and then he could allow her body to replenish. But her face turned gray and he watched her lips turn blue. Hermione blinked, a slow motion of her eyelids, once and then her eyes rolled up into her head before dropping back and gazing at a fixed point. They were watery and glassy. He could look upon her no longer. Severus forced his eyes shut, squeezing them tight against the burning sting of tears.

            How long he laid there after her blood had circulated fully through his veins he wasn’t certain. But her lifeless body remained beside him. He was unable to look upon her for the longest time. Finally he reached a tremulous hand to her face and carefully closed her eyes; pressing a shaky kiss against each of her eyelids. It was wrong and backwards; he did not deserve to live, especially when it had meant that she had to die.

            Minerva was inconsolable, weeping and whimpering in Albus’ arms after they had both tumbled back out of the pensieve. He had watched further to see Severus set her body aflame and captured the ashes in a little glass vial not dissimilar to the one in which he’d stored his memory. The girl was gone but for the greater good and Severus vanished upon his mission to thwart the dark lord. There was nothing to be done for it, so he held the weeping woman a while longer as her grief consumed her.

            Severus stood on an icy ledge of a mountain far away. The wind was deathly still and the bitter cold stung his nose but he cared not for the pain it caused him. Months had passed and he had completed his mission. What the Order did to maintain the safety of the world was their problem. In his hand he held a tiny glass vial. With shaking fingers he pulled the stopper from the top and carefully sprinkled the ashes at the cliff’s edge. A warm burst of wind swirled around him. The wind caught the ashes and swirled them around his being, a gentle touch against his shoulder, a hand against the small of his back, and the lightest feathery kiss against his cheek. Tears once more claimed him as the warmth exploded into unbearable heat, tingling his body as the ashes whirled around him. With a blinding flash they were gone. The wind died and the ashes had drifted away. The glass vial fell from his hand and shattered against the icy rock beneath his feet.

            The tears froze to his face but he did not fight them. She had cared for him so greatly, felt feelings of love for him so strong that she had given her life to save him. He was not worthy. But he had not been able to stop her. The least he could do was set her spirit free. With a heavy heart that would never feel warmed again, he wiped the frozen tears from his face before disapparating with a pop lost in the slightest whip of the wind.

~End~

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Mission Impossible