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Living in the Moon	By : goldhorse Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 3965 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. JK Rowling does. I make no money writing this.

Chapter List
- 1-Living in the Moon
- 1
AN: Note to self: Stop listening to music. But my fixation might have worked in your favor this time. :)

Severus opened his eyes, sighing when he saw the time on the alarm clock the little chit had insisted upon. Six A.M. It was Christmas morning then. Of course, no one else could have seen the clock except for him. It was pitch black, the inky darkness so thick that even shadows dare not dwell in his presence. That’s how he lived life now. Well, live in a relative term. He hadn’t truly lived since he’d lost his reflection in the mirror, thus the absolute ban on them in his domicile. He sighed again and laid his cheek against hers, savoring the last hint of warmth before it was time. She was so cold now. Her lips would be tinged blue and her teeth would chatter in a moment, but for now, he relished the touch.
This would end in a few minutes. She would awake and he would tell her. He hoped that this would be the time that she’d relent. She knew his weaknesses. The first time he’d suggested they should go their separate ways, she refused. Tears fell softly down her face, such tragic beauty that he was entranced. Then she picked up the knife and pressed it to her heart. If his heart were still beating, it would have stopped in that moment. Her words echoed in his head even now.
“I love you, Severus. If you go, you’ll have to kill me. Now. I won’t survive if you don’t.”
She’d pestered him non-stop after that, practically begging him to share in his eternal misery. She’d argued that she could be as beautiful as he thought her to be forever. She didn’t understand that she was a goddess, full of sun and light. The moon was too cold, not suitable for such a warm soul. He couldn’t bear to see that soul snuffed out. Still, he allowed her to cover her face with his hands, basking in the icy feeling and listening to her certainty that it was time.
The second time he told her they were through. He didn’t mince words. There were no suggestions, just an order. She was to leave. He didn’t want her any longer. She was a good plaything for a while but he’d grown tired. Watching her smile falter as his words flayed her ripped his long dead heart in two. He wished in that moment that someone would stake him and end the agony. He watched as all of her hopes and dreams of sharing eternity crumbled. He watched his last chance at love shatter, forever condemning him to a life of isolation. He saw only the black void ahead and no way to turn away.
That night, as he’d awoken from the sleep of the damned, he was greeting with a sight that wrenched his guts out. She’d sliced up her beautiful breasts, carving a heart deep within their fleshy globes. Blood saturated the white satin sheets she’d insisted upon. Just before she passed out, she smiled. Those words were unforgettable.
“This is where we started. This is where I’ll end, Severus.”
He healed her and made slow love, worshiping the too pale skin that was knitting back together. He’d done so every night since. And when she finally fell asleep in sated bliss, he’d seek out the moon and study her form in its silvery light. He couldn’t do it. She asked too much. Lately she’d been drifting from him, fed up, he supposed, by his stern warning that he wouldn’t do it. He looked at the clock again and nodded to no one. It was six-nineteen. He was ready.
“It’s almost morning,” he cooed in her ear.
She moaned and snuggled closer to him. “Just a few more minutes.”
“There are no more minutes.”
“Why didn’t you wake me sooner?”
He sighed and watched her open those doe eyes of hers, blinking sleepily as she smiled. He’d miss that. “I want to take you somewhere.”
She sat up then, cocking her head in question. “But if there’s no more time…”
He traced her cheek from temple to jaw and then down her neck where the jagged scar from Bellatrix still sat. It made her more beautiful. It made her real. She was much more than a porcelain doll. She was a warrior. She’d survive without him just fine.
“It’s time, Hermione.”
Tears immediately flooded her eyes. “No.”
He shook his head and rose from the bed, dressing them both with a flick of the wand. “If you won’t leave me, it will be the other way.”
“But it’s Christmas,” she said in a tiny voice.
“It is my gift to you.”
She shook her head and crossed her arms stubbornly. “It’s a shit gift and I won’t accept it.”
“You don’t have a choice,” he said darkly, scooping her into his arms.
He remembered when she’d said those exact same words to him as he lay dying on the floor of the shrieking shack. She’d somehow procured vampire blood and when the phoenix tears and the beozar and all the spells in her rather impressive arsenal were exhausted with no improvement, she’d damned him.
It had been a fling to start, a last desperate attempt to feel something before he died. She’d come to him with the proposition, wanting the same before she went to her doom. He’d relented. Somehow, they kept running into each other. Even when she was on the run and he was trying to keep Hogwarts from falling, they managed to be together. He’d fallen for her but he refused to hold her back so he’d let her go just before the battle. He’d underestimated his fiery little witch. She refused then as well.
But not now. He buckled her into her car and imperioused her to drive. It was just a short trip, no more than a few minutes from his home on the cliffs. It was dark near the bay and there were plenty of moonlight seeking lovers to prey upon. It would be a spectacular place to end.
The sun was just peaking over the horizon when he felt his spell slip. She was no longer under his control. His stomach dropped when she pressed the gas to the floor and steered for the edge of the cliffs. No amount of spells would sway her.
“Don’t do this,” he pleaded. Already his skin was starting to prickle with the daylight.
“I told you, Severus,” she said in a determined voice that terrified him. “I love you. You’ll have to kill me.”
“I’m not,” he whispered. “Please.”
“If you want to burn, I’ll burn with you,” she said in an eerily calm voice. “We’ll turn to ashes together.”
At that moment, Severus made a desperate attempt to stop, slashing all four tires of the car with a spell. The car skidded and flipped first sideways and then end over end, turning impossibly fast. He heard the moment her neck snapped, the dull thud her heart gave at the loss of brain activity. It couldn’t end there. He wouldn’t allow it. She would live even if she didn’t want to. With a last prayer for her soul, he bared his teeth and sank them deeply into her ruined neck, injecting her with the venom that she didn’t have access to during his turning. She would burn, whereas he never had to. But there was nothing for it. She would survive.
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Christmas morning 200 years later:
Her obituary still hung in his bedroom, her beautiful face smiling serenely from the paper. He still remembered the day that picture was taken. He’d finally been declared innocent, posthumously of course. No one could have survived a snake. Her friends couldn’t understand the peace his pardon had given her but they took the opportunity to immortalize it as it was the first time she’d smiled since before the war.
He lay his cheek against hers, marveling at the fact that she still felt warm. He didn’t know how they managed to escape the fire or the sunlight. But when the moon peaked over the horizon, he was on the beach with her in his arms. The wreckage was still smoldering and no one had found them yet. He held her as she took her first taste of immortality and then carried her to bed.
Every night he still sought out the moon and wondered how much longer they would get to spend together. No one knew they were still around, still able to see the wizarding world as it mended itself into a respectable society. It was hard on her when Potter and Weasley died, though she hadn’t spoken to them in over a century. Still, she kept watch over them and their family from the shadows. He felt guilty for taking that away from her but she’d hexed him seven ways from Sunday for expressing those feelings. She was happy with him and she’d proven it.
She moaned and snuggled closer to him, her lithe leg coming to wrap around his. He held her tighter and closed his eyes. She had been right. This is where it had started. This was where it would end.
“I wanted to see the moon,” she whispered into the darkness.
He chuckled. “There is still time, love.”
He allowed her to pull him from the bed. Whatever the crash had done, they were now able to emerge from the blackness for a few hours each Christmas morning.
She smiled. “Let’s go say hi to the sun.”

AN: So, in case you couldn't tell, this story is based on Marily Manson's "If I Was Your Vampire." It's kind of haunting and beautiful. I hope the story has the same tone, just a little... creepier in a sort of obsessive way that only Snape can be. It was fun twisting Hermione to have the same mindset. So, enjoy and drop me a line to let me know what you thought. Until the next one... love you guys!
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Living in the Moon