A series of 100 word drabbles which provide snapshots of an uncontrollable descent to tragedy.
Disclaimer: Severus and Hermione most definitely belong to J.K. Rowling
Author's Note: I began working on these before HBP. I contemplated discarding them, but for some reason, they have a very special place in my heart. Maybe now, I can leave my obsession with 100 word studies and concentrate on my post HBP idea.
Sunlight threaded through stained-glass windows and bathed them in dancing light.
A sense of serenity relaxed his typically tense posture and a feeling of peace soothed his weary soul.
"Sweet Merlin!" Awe tinged his whisper. "How… what is this… feeling?"
"It's God, Severus. It's light. It's grace." She smiled. Clearly his annoyance at being dragged with her to church had faded.
She rested her head on his shoulder. "What happens if we lose?"
He sighed deeply. His customarily smooth voice cracked with emotion. "Then may your God help us all, Hermione."
Two souls shadowed by Dark, prayed for the Light.
"I'm scared, Severus." Fear echoed in her whisper and anxiety clutched at her heart.
"It's not too late to change your mind, my angel." His warm fingers caressed the smooth, unblemished skin of her left arm. "You don't have to do this."
"Yes. I. Do. It will ensure our survival no matter what." Her eyes hardened with determination.
"I know, Hermione. I just wish that you did not have to stain your soul like this." His cool lips brushed her forehead gently.
"Will it hurt terribly?"
He could not lie.
"Yes my love, it will hurt terribly. It always hurts."
Darkness had come.
They took their place in the circle.
Hermione blinked rapidly, willing her tears to recede. The ferric edge on the air sent nausea rippling through her stomach. Panic threatened, but his firm, comforting grip on her hand kept her grounded.
The shrill voice of Lord Voldemort carried to some distant portion of her mind as he pointed dramatically to the body of Harry Potter. "The Boy who lived indeed! Celebrate tonight, my followers! Tomorrow there is much work to be done! You are all dismissed."
The two lovers Apparated home to mourn the loss of the Light
Severus gazed at his hand in horror. He sank to the ground beside her, dazed.
"I'm so sorry, Hermione." Misery contorted his face.
Tears tracked down his pale cheeks. "I can't do this anymore! I'm changing - becoming like them again. Look what I've done!"
She crawled across the floor and cradled his head. Blood from her broken lip mingled with his remorseful tears.
"My love, I know, but we do what we have to in order to survive."
In a newly Dark world, two desperate souls drew comfort and battled to keep from slipping into vortex away from Light.
Severus and Hermione sat, side by side, staring at the potion on the table in front of them.
Their mutual sorrow resonated between their tormented souls.
"Are you sure?" Severus whispered. His voice has hoarse with sorrow and regret. His greatest wish had no place in the world they now resided in.
Hermione nodded miserably. "Yes, I'm sure."
It was the right decision, but it was breaking both their hearts.
She reached forward for the potion and drank with shaking hands.
"No child of ours will ever grow up in this Dark world."
They embraced and wept for their loss.
The vortex of evil had devoured all Light. Voldemort enveloped the world.
All allies to the Light exterminated, but two.
The Dark threatened their sanity and stretched their bond of love. There was no hope left and their decision was made.
The wind howled around them, weeping.
Their embrace was tender. Their last kiss communicated their feelings for each other like no spoken word could.
They grasped hands and she smiled one last smile that was filled with enduring love. "See you in the Light, my love."
They stepped off the edge of Darkness and plummeted to the ocean below.