A/N: [HG/SS] AU: A chain of events went wrong, starting with the moment Severus Snape was left to die alone in the Shrieking Shack. Only now, a decade after the end of the Wizarding War, the price of betrayal becomes far more evident.

November Contest: Fall "Fic"tacular for reddit

Prompts: Must be a Harry Potter Fic

Must include: Fall (the season!)

Beta Love: fluffpanda, the crazily overworked,

Story Please, the elusive, &

Lux, the poker of things

The Coldness in the Leaves

Harry, Ron, and Neville stared down the Fifth Floor hallway, expressions shifting between concern, frustration, and confusion. Autumn leaves were blowing through the empty hallways of Hogwarts, propelled by drafts from windows further down the corridor. Harry was writing something down on a notepad as Ron waved his wand over the nearby wall. Neville simply stood there, looking exceedingly guilty.

"You put him in the Come and Go Room?" Harry asked Neville.

"It was the only place—" Neville began with a nervous twitch. "It was the only place I could think of that could hold him. He almost tore the doors off the classroom. The Room created restraints better than the ones we had at the Auror's Office—not that you can tell now. He's grown too powerful."

Harry waved his hand. "I understand. Ron, can you get the door to manifest?"

"No, mate," Ron said with a shake of his head. "You know the room, though. It won't open unless…"

"It thinks it should, I know," Harry groaned. "Neville, what happened? What really happened?"

Neville wrung his hands, pulling his teaching robes around himself. "It's all my fault. I interrupted Snape's class in the middle of a lesson. Mason and Collins were dueling. It was an intensive top level lesson, and I came in right as the spells were being thrown."

Harry narrowed his eyes. "Why do I get the feeling that it wasn't just some minor spellcasting error?"

There was a crashing, tearing, and snarling sound coming from the other side of the wall.

Neville's eyes widened. " Snape stepped in front of me and took both spells right in the chest. I have no idea what they were throwing at each other, but if what happened to him is any indication, it wasn't Jelly-leg jinxes."

Ron seemed to read between the lines. "What happened, mate? You've been looking like you poisoned someone's pet Puffskein."

"Snape's arm started to bleed this black stuff," Neville said."You know, where the Dark Mark used to be. It crawled all over him and he just kept screaming and screaming…. I hustled all the students out as he started to transform, and then I Stunned him, tied him in ropes, and brought him here."

"You think it was the Dark Mark then?" Harry asked. "Something the Dark Lord cast as a dormant spell on all his Death Eaters?"

"Maybe it wasn't something Voldemort did, Mate," Ron said, seemingly thoughtful. "Maybe it was a combination of accidental magic mixed with the remnant Dark magic the Mark left behind when Voldemort died."

Harry and Neville stared at Ron.

"What's with the look of surprise?" Ron groused. "I paid attention at our last Auror seminar."

Harry shook his head. "Why did you take a month to notify us, Neville?"

Neville looked resigned. "The other professors have been trying to help him, but only one has been able to help."

"Neville—" Harry cautioned. "I know that tone. Who are you protecting?"

"You and Ron, Harry," an eerily calm voice replied, "from me."

Silent as a spectre, a woman drifted down the hallway towards them. Dark black robes trimmed in fur and blood red satin framed a smaller statured witch with her hair pulled back into a french braid. She had a high collar, stiff against her neck. Her brown eyes, which once held warmth and sensitivity, had a cold blackness to them—Occlumency and tight control robbing both her eyes and face of emotion.

Neville paled, showing the same reaction he used to show for Snape back in the day, no amount of heroism seemed to be able to steal that response from his psyche. Bravery was, apparently, situational, and as Harry and Ron gazed upon their old friend, it became ultimately clear just how changed Hermione had become since last they had seen her.

Hermione's lips pursed together in a tight line. "It has been many years," Hermione said with an uncomfortably detached voice.

"Harry, Ron," Neville said softly. "Her—Professor Krum agreed to serve in Professor Snape's… absence. She has also been the only one who has been able to get through to him when his instincts have turned violent."

"Violent?" Ron interjected. "You neglected—"

Vicious snarling came from on the other side of the nearby wall. The sounds of slamming as well as the force of impact caused Ron and Neville to jump.

"If I remember correctly, you neglected to tell my husband that he was going into a basilisk nest to rescue that child as well, Ronald. You let him go in there thinking it was just a less intelligent Dark Wizard, and you needed his help flushing him out." Hermione said coldly. "Funny, how a lack of communication breaks down so many things."

Ron paled. "'Mione—"

Hermione's flat, ancient eyes bored into his frightened blue eyes. "You waited until I was in Australia visiting my parents, and you recruited him for a mission tracking down some fleeing vermin. You couldn't be bothered to wait for the intelligence reports to come back. You had to be the hero again."

Harry looked like he was going to protest.

Hermione held up her hand. "Spare me your condolences," she said. "I read all of the reports. I read them hundreds of times. I read every morning as I sat in my house alone without my husband. In the years after his death, not once did either of my best friends or any of my friends come and offer me comfort."

Harry, Ron, and Neville looked down at their feet.

"There were still those who cared, though. I had half of Viktor's graduating class from Durmstrang keeping me company every night, giving me lessons in all sorts of magic and four Slavic languages to keep my mind off things. When they weren't there, I had most of the Bulgarian Quidditch Team in my home holding me as I cried. So, you'll have to forgive me for not having faith in… my old friends or Aurors for that matter..."

As Hermione approached the smooth stone wall, a door formed, and she walked through it.

"Hermione, no!"

Hermione continued to walk as a monstrous black, winged shape descended from the ceiling and landed on Hermione with a roar. Hermione made no move to protect herself.

The beast, and he could be described as nothing less than a beast, snarled. Venom dripping from sharp, razor teeth as leathery, dragon-like wings beat the air. Pitch black skin glistened with slime as his claws scraped against the stone floor. His nostrils flared; giant puffs of air moved Hermione's hair as he sniffed her neck. Claws as long as knives clenched her body, tips just barely digging into the fabric of her black robes.

"Madam Krum," Snape's velvety and venomous voice slipped from the horrible monster's lips in a manner that seemed to indicate a difficulty in speaking with human words. "You...returned."

Hermione looked at him calmly. "I promised that I would, Professor Snape," she replied.

"I," the bestial Snape replied, "did not think you would return after… last time."

Hermione shook her head. "I promised I would," she replied. "I keep them as best I can."

Shiny black eyes bore into her face as his nose twitched. "I believe you."

"Oi! Snape!" Ron, Harry, and Neville managed to get through the door before it closed behind them.

Snape snarled,. He stood in front of Hermione with his wings out, teeth bared, and venom dripping from his jaws. One wing curled around Hermione's form, pulling her behind him. Power radiated off his body, and it was growing stronger, wicking off his body like dark mist.

Hermione's hand touched Snape's bestial wing. "Professor," she said calmly. "It's okay. They were just worried about me, isn't that right?"

Harry, Ron, and Neville's faces flashed with a number of emotions, but they all merely nodded numbly in rely.

Snape's black eyes bored into the two Aurors and Neville, teeth still bared, but his lips relaxed as he turned back to Hermione. The snarl softened and he sighed. "Severus," he said. "Call me by my name, Madam Professor Krum."

Hermione's expression was sad. "Hardly seems fair that I get to call you by your name while you still refer to me as 'Madam Professor Krum'."

Snape's body shuddered and seemed to fold in on itself. With a deep breath, Severus Snape, looking perfectly human, stood in the beast's place— tall, pale, and brooding.

"What happened?" Harry asked, holding Ron back with his arm.

Snape, his lip curled in disdain, snorted. "Incidental magic combined with the taint left by the Dark Lord and… transformed me into exactly what all those young minds thought I was."

"What?" Ron said softly. "Wait, does that mean—?"

Neville closed his eyes. "It means that now...he's everything we thought as kids… all the stories. He became the embodiment of what we thought he was—what most children tend to believe of their Boggarts."

Harry looked horrified. "No disrespect meant, Sir, but we used to think—"

Snape's face twisted into disgust. "I am well aware, now more than ever, of what children believe me to be, Mr Potter. Apparently, I am many horrible things that cohabitate in one body." Power rolled off Snape, and in moments, claws had formed on the end of his fingers. His teeth grew a little sharper.

Hermione touched his arm gently, and the irritation seemed to drain out of him.

"I am sorry," Snape apologised as his sanity seemed to return and his feral features faded with Hermione's touch. "Emotions make it… harder to control."

Harry stepped up. "Sir, is there anything we can do to help you? Hermione, are you doing anything we can… assist with? I have some contacts within the Aurors that might be able to—"

"Madam Kr—Hermione," Snape corrected himself, "seems to be able to bring me back to myself. We are unsure why. There is a… connection."

"If I stay with him for the night, he will be able to stay human," Hermione explained. "He can remain that way for most of the daylight hours in meditation, but any stress while he is alone will bring out the change."

"Well, that means teaching is out," Neville sighed.

Snape rolled his eyes. "Even sitting in a faculty meeting or running into Hagrid has not ended well if Hermione is not there. So, when she is not able to be my 'escort,' I am forced to detain myself here. It has become harder, as times go on, to focus when she is not present."

"Any idea why?" Ronald asked.

"All of the faculty have tried to keep vigil with him, Ron," Neville said. "There was nothing we could do. Our presence made it worse. The only other who he tolerates in that state is the Headmistress and that only when she is in her Animagus form."

"Professor Snape," Harry interjected. "Will you allow us to run a few scans?"

"By all means, Mr Potter," Snape growled. "Poke away."

Hours later, Harry and Ron looked resigned. Neville simply looked weary, and Hermione's eyes were drifting closed as exhaustion from her day caught up with her.

A pile of graded papers lay in a neat pile by the door, and Hermione's eyes fluttered closed, her body going limp.

"'Mione," Ron said, his arm extending to touch her.

Snape's eyes were swallowed with black. "Do not touch her," he growled. His black, but human eyes returned slowly. "When she sleeps, it is… calming."

Ron frowned, but some deeper realisation seemed to flicker there. "We failed her. When she needed us, we were never there. Just like Snape. We left you to die in that Shack. Only Hermione thought to Apparate you to St. Mungo's. I let my family justify my anger when Viktor did all the things I couldn't, and then, when he died, I kept waiting for her to come back to me, never thinking I should have gone to her."

"Ron, what are you saying?" Harry said.

"That's the connection, mate," Ron said. "They were both betrayed… by us."

"Ron, he died in front of us. His heart stopped," Harry insisted.

Neville spoke up. "That didn't stop Hermione from taking him to Mungo's did it?" he asked, his face sad.

Snape shook his head. "I do not hold such old actions, especially those committed during war, against any of you. We all had our roles to play."

"It's karma, mate," Ron insisted, wringing his hands like his mother was prone to do.

Severus growled.

Ron shot up his hands. "Our karma, Professor."

Snape narrowed his eyes, an odd sense of acceptance in his regard.

Again, Harry and Neville looked at Ron as though he had grown a second head.

"Sir," Harry said after a while. "Do you mind if we take our results to the Aurors? I would like to help you."

Severus pulled his robes around himself, then seeing how Hermione was nestled in against him, pulled on side of his robe to cover her like a blanket.

"Do you as you wish, Mr Potter," Severus replied. "You have already cleared my name. I do not wish to be further indebted to you."

Harry straightened. "It's our job sir—to help people."

Snape's teeth were strangely sharp. "Some would say I am not even that anymore." There was a surge of power that rolled off him, but he immediately pressed his hand to Hermione's head. Immediately, the flare of almost alien power faded. Snape remained human. "Your conversations, helpful as you may intend, are wearing down my control, Mr. Potter, Weasley, Longbottom. If you wish to speak to me again, I would ask you do so tomorrow after I have rested."

"Of course, I apologise for keeping you," Harry said.

Snape shook his head. "This is not your fault, Mr Potter. Our history, while linked, does not make you my keeper forever."

Harry looked sad. "You watched over me for almost two decades, Professor. "The least I can do is try and help you now."

Snape was silent but he nodded, waving his hand with almost Malfoy dismissiveness.

Harry herded Ron and Neville away, and they stepped through the door with defeat in their footfalls.

"The Dark is taking him over, Harry," Ron whispered to Harry as the door closed behind them. "You know we're going to have to come back in the morning with a team and—"

"Let them sleep, Ron," Harry said, wincing, his voice wavering. "We've already failed her once. We've already failed him. Give them tonight while he is in control. We can talk to her in the afternoon, when they are normally apart."

Neville's eyes went wide. "You mean to bring in the Hit Wizards."

Harry's face was haunted. "The Darkness is a part of him now, Neville. It's only a matter of time when Hermione won't be able to bring him back himself. She's good, but the curse will consume him and turn him into everything we imagined him to be."

Inside the closed Room of Requirement, Severus Snape's eyes had bled into pure black. Long stiletto fangs exposed as a muzzle formed out of his face as thick venomous drool dripped from his mouth. His ears were pitched forward as he listened to the trio leave.

He had heard… everything.

Severus looked down at Hermione Krum, once member of the Golden Trio, then ostracised outlier whose social circles had fallen into something resembling his. As his growing senses explored her magic, her mind, and the calming effect she had upon him, he realised they shared the same gaping emptiness—a void that could never be filled because what had once filled it was dead. Somehow, the universe had dealt them both the same wildcard and given each other the key to filling that void once more with a very steep price tag. He was turning into a nightmare creature, and she was turning away from much of the light and hope in her life now that her husband was dead.

His claws hands brushed her hair from her face. Was there hope for either of them? Would he surrender to the Aurors and meet his death by Hit Wizards, or would he instead surrender to the transformation and become the beast? What would it mean for her—this special witch, that even though she'd been shunned by the world, she still had enough compassion to stay with him to keep his mind human?

"Hermione," he crooned, his voice difficult as his vocal chords were no longer entirely human.

Hermione stirred in her sleep, and in an act that caused Snape to shudder, she pulled into him, snuggling into his lap as she slept. Her smaller hand curled around the curve of his elongated talons, barely managing to wrap around the sharp, obsidian claw's most deadly point.

She was tired… weary. He could feel it.

Even if he managed to leave his prison in the Come and Go Room… then what? Flee into the wilderness and descend in the madness of becoming the beast of nightmares? And where would that leave her? Alone? Would she remain at Hogwarts and take up the position he left behind? Would she return alone to Bulgaria to the empty home she once shared with the love of her life? How is it he knew her so well in such a short time? Was this strange, mutated magic that was transforming him giving him insight into this one lonely witch? Did he have any right at all to ask of her more than what she had already done?

The change came with a rush of heat, and he growled possessively as his instincts overruled reason. Hermione.

He wrapped his arms around her, cradling her against him, tucking her both against his chest and under his wings. He closed his eyes as he placed his muzzle into her hair, nose working as he savoured her scent.

A rumbling and scraping noise caused him to look up. The Come and Go room had given him a stairway that went upward. He stared at it, giving a soft growl. He stood, carrying Hermione in his arms like a classic movie monster carrying the female victim—up into the unknown that only Hogwarts knew he needed.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Snape crooned softly, laying Hermione back against the ramparts. The full moon cast its bright light across the autumn's half skeletal trees as leaves rustled across the grounds with a rattle. Hogwarts had given him a way out. It had given him an escape to freedom, but to take it he would leave behind his connection to his humanity. There was a good chance the person he was and the person he had become would be forever lost.

Possessive instincts warred with protective ones, and the protective ones were torn between two different methodologies: leave her to protect her from himself or take her with him to protect her from the world that had forsaken her… just as the world had forsaken him.

He hissed in pain as a burning in his arm caught him off guard. Dark black rivulets of Dark corruption slithered down his arm from pores in his skin, and suddenly he knew. He knew if it reached Hermione's skin and found a cut or a wound, it would turn her into something like him… if she survived the experience. He stroked her cheek with his other hand, his fangs exposed in a grimace of pain and longing. He pressed his muzzle to her cheek, jaws parted as his darkened tongue flicked out to very tenderly lick her skin, and he launched into the air with a howl of anguish, leaving her in the depths of her exhausted sleep. She would be alone, but she would still be pure and untouched by the Darkness in his blood. She would be human.

He could only pray that when the beast took over his mind, he would not remember the soft touch of her skin on his.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Hermione woke days later at St. Mungo's to headlines proclaiming her a miraculous survivor. They never found Severus Snape. All divination and scrying for him met with failure. Officially, he had been killed by a cursed beast— a remnant of the old war that Voldemort had kept hidden from all. His name was clear in his second death. Harry Potter had seen to it. He said only that he had failed the man that had protected him as a child a second time.

Hermione took up Snape's position at Hogwarts, accepting the offer for permanent tenure. She and Neville made up, eventually, but Neville often noted that he never found the same warmth in Hermione's eyes that he remembered from their childhood. Hermione and the other two thirds of Golden Trio never found true peace. While she forgave them in words, she made no effort to rejoin their gatherings at the Burrow. She never remarried.

Many, many years later, long after her parents had died and many classes of Hogwarts' students having passed through the gates and graduated, Hermione's portrait was mounted beside Headmaster Snape's and Minerva McGonagall's. It was said that the other portraits gave the trio a wide berth, and that often Hermione's portrait would mutter things in Bulgarian as the latest Headmaster went by. Students had called her brilliant, but scary. She had tolerated no nonsense, much like Minerva, and she had tolerated even less dunderheadedness, much like Snape. She had taught until her hair was streaked with silver, yet her eyes remained fathomlessly black with Occlumency her entire career, never once revealing the warm brown of her youth.

And one night, after all the students had gone to bed, the patrols were done, and the latest generation of Hogwarts professors were tucked comfortably into their various roles, Headmistress Hermione Krum had vanished.

It was said that, for decades, a forest in Bulgaria's wilds known only as the Forest of the Demon was guarded by a fiercely territorial demon that protected it from all human intruders. There, the trees grew tall without being molested for their wood, and the animals only worried about the sort of things animals normally worry about. Hunters found themselves with no game to hunt and no way home. Magical species were said to flourish there like no other place on Earth. Those that attempted to intrude there came out babbling about demons if they came out at all, and soon, Muggles and Wizarding folk left it untouched. For years, the demon's mournful cries echoed across the canopy every night. Some said that it was calling to a mate that never joined him.

One night, a lone woman walked into the Forest of the Demon, her aging silver-lined hair shining in the full moon's light. The locals tried to warn her that the forest was haunted, but the woman only smiled and stated, "I'm counting on it."

She never returned, but from that night on, two haunting cries chimed from over the forest's canopy. Two sets of vast wings soared across the moonlit skies and fire-coloured trees, wing-tip to wing-tip. From then on, the Forest of the Demon was always draped in the full and vibrant colours of autumn. The leaves rustled together as they fell and blew in the wind, the fruits and nuts of the season were always plentiful, and voices seemed to whisper in the wind to those who stood still enough to listen.

The locals told stories to their children to never take the forest for granted or the demons would get them. No one, in the hundreds of years to follow, ever dared to test that hypothesis.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

"To remain indifferent to the challenges we face is indefensible. If the goal is noble, whether or not it is realized within our lifetime is largely irrelevant. That we must do therefore is to strive and persevere and never give up."

-Dalai Lama XIV

A/N: I'd like to think that once Hermione had lived her full and human life that she left all her things in order and went to find the one who had given up his humanity for her.