“Oi, Maloney, get your scrawny arse back to your bed,” Draco Malfoy said to the young child who was walking through the corridors in his pyjamas.

Draco didn’t make a habit of learning the names of any new students, but this bloke was known to everyone for his penchant to become lost. Worse than Longbottom!

He sneered as the boy ran past him; unfortunately, he was heading further into the dungeons instead of back to his Hufflepuff dormitory. In typical Malfoy fashion, he didn’t call him back.

The ickle firstie with the looks of an angel, with his curly blond hair and the blue eyes, made a hasty retreat, not bothering to correct the Prefect that his name was Mahoney, not Maloney.

The corridors got darker, and the boy’s steps slowed, a quiet whimper sounding horribly loud in the empty hall.

“Mr. Mahoney.” Yet another voice brought him to a stop. With wild eyes, he stared at the dark figure emerging from the shadows.

“Professor Snape,” the boy tried to say, but all he got out was a wheezy “…nnaaaape”.

The man in question raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment. “Curfew was an hour ago. Ten points from Hufflepuff. Now back to your rooms.”

Snape’s voice was less vitriolic than it could have been, and the boy felt a gentle hand on his shoulder, steering him back where he came from.

The two of them walked quietly for a while until they heard angry voices in the distance.

The boy felt Snape’s strides quicken, and he was unceremoniously pushed forward. Not wanting to anger the Professor, he hobbled as fast as he could, even up the steep stairs.

The hand left his shoulder as they saw who was arguing: Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy.

Draco lowered his wand which had previously pointed at Hermione’s face.

When she noticed who approached, her eyes found Snape’s and she nodded, relief showing briefly on her face. Then she saw who was accompanying him, and she smiled ruefully.

“Montague, you really have to get a map of this place,” she said in a friendly tone, and the boy smiled back shyly.

Then she proceeded to tell him the way and waited for him to nod his understanding. “Go on then, Monty; you need your sleep,” she said and gave him a little push in the right direction.

Montague waved before making his way to his dormitory, furiously whispering Hermione’s directions under his breath.

xxx

As soon as the boy was out of sight, Snape addressed his student. “Mr. Malfoy, continue with your rounds.”

Draco didn’t look at his Head of House, but nodded sharply. He made to walk past Hermione and walked into her deliberately, forcing her out of the way.

Unfortunately, his shove was harder than he intended, and Hermione was not prepared for the vicious move and lost her balance.

As if time had stopped, Hermione’s eyes connected instinctively with black ones. Both pairs of eyes were wide with surprise and panic. She didn’t even have time to scream as she tumbled head-first down the stairs.

An inarticulate shout came from her Professor who couldn’t pull his wand fast enough out of its holster.

Draco watched with shock as the bushy head connected loudly with the stone steps, the unmistakable SNAP of a broken bone frightening him.

The Potions Master flew down the stairs but stumbled with a dismayed groan as he also heard the loud noise.

Hermione never made a noise, her body still sliding down the hard steps like a rag doll.

After Snape’s stumble, he half crawled, half slid down farther until he reached the still body of the Gryffindor girl.

Draco watched immobile from the top of the stairs, still hearing the harsh breathing of his Professor from the distance.

Fascinated, he watched Snape hesitatingly touch the fallen student.

“Hermione?” he heard the man ask in a tone he had never heard from the man. Yet, he knew exactly what it was: fear.

A pale hand reached out and touched Hermione’s head which rolled uselessly at the hesitant touch.

Snape whimpered and forced himself to touch her neck. He felt for a pulse and found none. A pleading sound issued from the fearsome man, and Draco watched him examine the girl’s neck.

When his fingers encountered the obvious break, the black-haired man reared back as if burned. Another cry came from those thin lips, this time filled with despair.

Draco still hadn’t moved, his eyes moving from the dead girl to the man next to her.

He didn’t move when black eyes suddenly snapped up to him. He could read the anguish in those dark eyes even in the poorly lit corridor.

Anguish suddenly turned to hatred, and Draco understood. Snape and Granger? When did that happen? He should have been shocked, but in light of what just happened, he merely felt mild surprise.

His brief feeling of superiority at the thought of blackmailing the Potions Master died a quick death as Snape’s wand slowly pointed at him.

With a sudden clarity he knew that his days were numbered. Still, he did not move as the broken man stood and walked back up the stairs, black eyes never leaving his.

Snape walked slowly, and he threw his wand down. Draco cocked his head at that, clearly waiting for the Avada Kedavra to come hurtling towards him any second.

He still didn’t move. Running from Snape would be useless. With unsteady steps, the older wizard made his way back up the stairs until he stood in front of the blond young man.

They were eye to eye, even though Snape was still two steps lower than his student.

“I didn’t mean to...” Draco began but broke off. He was speaking the truth, but he didn’t expect this to make a difference.

With a howl the older man was upon him, long, cold fingers wrapping themselves around his throat.

Draco fought feebly, still too shocked about the whole incident. He stood no chance, and soon the sounds of choking were the only things to be heard.

Severus relished each agonized wheeze, every attempt to break free. He watched in satisfaction as the younger wizard’s lips turned blue, and the life left his body.

He held the body of his now ex-student even after all struggles had ceased, and Malfoy sagged. His fingers didn’t want to loosen their hold, and he wanted to wring the boy’s neck like a sponge.

Before long, he threw the corpse down the stairs. He watched it dispassionately.

Then his eyes found Hermione, and with a sob he walked back down to her. He picked her lifeless body up and cradled it against his chest.

“Hermione?” he croaked, his voice breaking horribly. He pressed her closer, urging her to wake up and wrap her arms around him. “Come back! Please come back!” Tears blurring his vision, he made his way to his quarters, his feet knowing the way.

He stumbled in and didn’t bother closing the door behind him. He stood forlornly in his living room, looking at Hermione questioningly. “The fire, love?” he asked and then nodded to himself. His whole body shook with each sob, and his breath hitched noisily.

He put her down gently on the hearthrug, gagging as her head lolled about. He pulled a cushion from the sofa and placed it reverently under her head.

Following their usual routine, he lit the fire. Before he could join Hermione, he ran to his store cupboard. He threw up noisily before he reached it. Then he wiped his mouth and selected a bottle.

The pain he felt was beyond anything he had ever known, and he thought he would die from a broken heart any second. He was crying uncontrollably and wouldn’t have bothered to hide his anguish if all of Hogwarts were witnessing his breakdown.

He returned to Hermione with quick steps, even though his legs were numb and felt like different entities. He lay down next to her carefully, shivering from shock. He embraced her as he always had, placing her head against his shoulder.

It was all wrong, and he shook his head with a wail. “Hold me! HOLD ME!” he keened and sobbed his heart out, tears and mucus covering his face.

He didn’t bother wiping anything away and simply pressed her already cooling body against his own, trying to get some comfort without success.

“NO, NO, NO, NOOOOO!” His voice came in shuddering gasps, wracking his thin body. His face contorted with never before known pain. He felt the unbearable tightness in his chest and felt ready to implode, his innards cramping.

“You can’t leave me. You can’t leave me! Don’t go,” he pleaded shamelessly. But he knew she was gone. Her brilliant spirit had vanished and had left behind nothing but a cold shell of her former self.

“I’ll be with you again. Wait for me. Please wait. I’ll find you!” he promised. He needed her more than life itself. Every second without her was crippling his soul.

He kissed her unresponsive and cold lips desperately, smelling her fragrance as he fumbled with the vial.

He stopped momentarily and spared a thought to the unfairness of it all. They were supposed to meet tonight, after their rounds. They’d love each other by the fire, where she loved it the most.

He had been looking forward to it so much and now… Now he hadn’t even talked to her. Not even a secret smile behind Malfoy’s back.

An unearthly howl erupted from his lungs, and he threw his head back as his broken soul screamed out its pain.

“I love you so much,” he breathed before drinking the sickly green contents of the vial. With a shuddering breath, he crept closer to her and put one of her arms around him.

He pressed his forehead against hers, his agitated breath stirring her hair. “Wait for me,” he repeated his earlier words quietly and simply waited for his breathing to slow.

His shaking frame calmed, and his breathing evened out. His eyes, which had been frantically imprinting her lovely features on his mind for the last time on this realm, closed slowly, and he concentrated on the feel of her in his arms.

He sighed one last time and squeezed her tightly. Then his grasp slackened and a last breath came over his lips.

Then everything was quiet and still, and no one could tell what heartbreaking event had just taken place. The dancing flames of the fire were the only things alive in those rooms.