This fic was started almost three years ago, and it literally helped me learn how to write. I guess you could say it is my love letter to the SSHG pairing. It is a long, epic fic - almost 290K. I realise that's not for the faint-hearted, and if you finish and you're still on speaking terms with me for making it so long, you get an ice-lolly! ;)

Let me tell you what this fic isn't. It isn't always pretty, or bloodless, or nicety-nice, or homogenised. It isn't G-Rated. People die quite horrible deaths in this fic; there is explicit sexual content in this fic between consenting adults, there is violence. If you want sexless romance and a Severus who always does the right thing and a Hermione who is always good and virtuous and honest, please hit the backspace key NOW. You have been warned.

What this IS is a parallel-canon fic, and where I could, I tried to show how canon could have gone. It's a morality play about duty and honour and love and passion. If you think you like those things, stick around - I think you'll be happy with what you find.

Anti-Litigation Charm: None of the characters belong to me. They belong to JK Rowling, who let my entire reason for reading the Harry Potter series bleed to death on the floor of the Shrieking Shack. I'm building a better world.

For Sempra and Mimi

Lay me low, lay me low, lay me low,
Where no one can see me, where no one can find me, where no one can hurt me.

Show me the way, help me to say, all that I need to
All that I needed you gave me, all that I wanted you made me, when I stumbled you saved me.

Throw me a line, help me to find something to cling to,
When the loneliness haunts me, when the bitterness taunts me, when the emptiness eats me.

Lay me low, lay me low, lay me low,
Where no one can see me, where no one can find me, where no one can hurt me.

He sat, watching the girl sleep. He did that often now. It wasn't necessary, he told himself, and he wasn't needed, but he couldn't stop himself.

The fire smoldering in the fireplace was welcome down in the dungeons, even in summer, but the moisture in the castle walls of Hogwarts made the room as close and stuffy as a sauna. He smirked at the growing kinks in her already-untameable tresses, caused by the humid air. He was tempted to move her hair from her slightly shiny face, but he was afraid it would cause her to stir. She looked so peaceful, in spite of the wild mess fluffing around her face, he was loathe to disturb her slumber.

The girl sighed in her sleep, and kicked the duvet away from her body. There was a slight sheen of sweat on her forehead, and his sensitive nose detected the faintest sweet/metallic tang of approaching menses in her perspiration. She was restless because of the heat, and while every instinct told him to cover her, he resisted. She would only become more uncomfortable until she woke, and he wasn't there to wake her. He was there to watch over her.

Severus Snape sometimes questioned the precise moment he'd known how much he hated Sirius Black, but he didn't bother too much with the whys. He knew all too clearly why and the reasons were varied and bottomless.

Black's godson, Harry Potter, and his friends Granger and Weasley, probably wouldn't believe it to see him now, but Black had been one of the handsomest wizards of his age. He was tall, dark, aristocratic, cruel and secure in his looks and his pureblood status. He was as gaudily plumed and vain as Lucius Malfoy's peacocks. He was suave, sophisticated and learned; in other words, everything a poor, half-breed, badly raised, unattractive, touchy Northern boy like Severus Snape was not.

Black had been erudite and glib, and the young witches fluttered around him like geishas when he held court in the Gryffindor common room. He had only to crook his wand at one and she came running, thrilled to be Sirius Black's next conquest. It irritated Severus to see witches with brains, intellect and good looks, reduced to having the self-confidence and esteem of garden gnomes after Black had loved and left them, but they all seemed unable to resist the shallow, arrogant wizard.

Severus never would have believed that Lily Evans would be one of those witches, and for a long time she wasn't. In the end, she was too much a temptation for Sirius, and in true dog-in-the-manger style, his self-imposed hatred for Severus had been the impetus to saturate Lily with his charm, and barring that, the charm of his best friend, James Potter, the git. It had been Sirius and James Potter who'd taken Lily away from him.

Severus was forced to admit even to himself that they'd probably stolen her away long before he'd sealed his fate with her, losing his temper and calling her a Mudblood. They'd turned the only female, besides his mother that Severus had ever cared for, against him. The so-called Marauders had made life a misery for anyone in possession of a penis at Hogwarts during their reign. For that, he would never forgive them.

It still rankled every time he remembered Albus' cavalier attitude, when Potter and Granger had assisted Sirius in escaping two years before. Up to that time, everyone in the Wizarding world, Severus included, had thought Sirius Black had been Lily and James' Secret Keeper, and had betrayed them to the Dark Lord. It had landed him in Azkaban, where he belonged, and Severus had wanted to see Black kissed by the Dementors so badly, he could almost taste it. His fury at Potter and Granger was so manic, only the strongest Containment Charm cast by Albus had kept him from confronting James' son.

It no longer mattered when, last year, the Dark Lord returned, and once again Severus was unwillingly driven into his role of spy for the bloody Order. Peter Pettigrew, the little rodent, had finally been revealed as Lily's true Secret Keeper, and Black was exonerated by the Order, but where had Albus' sympathy been while they still thought Sirius had betrayed Severus' only love? Oh, Dumbledore had been the first to exploit Severus' guilt and remorse over it, but what of Severus' own grief and redemption? What had Severus done, since that night so long ago, but atone for his sins? When would forgiveness come? When would he be allowed to rest?

Sighing, Severus dropped the quill from his ink-stained fingers, and poured himself a glass of heavy, red wine. Why in Merlin's name was he thinking about this now? He knew the partial answer was that Lily was never far from his thoughts, and that his blame and self-abasement were inoculated in him as deeply as the Dark Mark that mutilated his arm.

He looked down at the Mark, disgusted. If he were a braver man, he would cut off his arm, move away, possibly to the States or Australia, and start over as a Muggle. Where no one would find me. It was like the words to an old Muggle song his dad used to listen to... Lay me low, where no one can see me, where no one can find me, where no one can hurt me…

In a moment of self-pitying weakness, he passed a trembling hand over his eyes. Gods, he wished there was such a place on this earth, where there was no hurt, no fear, no dread… Just one place on earth where he could be safe and not be afraid… where the loneliness and fear wouldn't crush him… Oh, Lily, I am so lonely…

Surrounded by children and faculty every moment of almost every day, but Severus Snape felt more alone than if on a desert island. He was truly not a man who wished for, or expected much, but even his meager hopes were beyond him now. He had to face the fact that he, Severus Snape, was staring down a short, very dark tunnel, one that was growing shorter and more perilous with every passing day.

It's not that he wanted to die. He would never willingly take his own life. He only wished every night, when his few hours of sleep finally took him, that he would simply not wake up.

He straightened and took several deep, calming breaths. This was not the time to give in to his dark emotions. He had a job, and it was abhorrent, and he hated it and his life. But he'd sworn to it, and there was no turning back. He sighed harshly, and sniffed slightly. With a flick of his hand that was almost subconscious muscle memory, he drew his hair from his eyes and straightened his spine. He was not a coward. He told himself that every day. Perhaps, if he told himself often enough, he would one day believe it.

There was an Order meeting tonight, and he was expected to attend. Both sides expected it. The Dark Lord had insisted that Severus go and report back to him later in the evening. It would be a long night, punctuated by flights of fancy, boredom, ire and pain, should his report be met with disapproval.

He dreaded going to Grimmauld Place, squeezing into the narrow old house, surrounded by Order members who resented and distrusted him, and students who hated him and maligned him. Mostly, he hated knowing that bastard Black would be there, taunting him, doing every tiny thing in his power to cripple the already waning trust the rest of the Order placed in Severus.

Bastard. They had no idea-

The clock chimed, and he rose slowly and took another deep breath. He would hold his head high, and he would defend himself. He would show that shallow fuck Sirius Black what bravery was. He wouldn't let him get under his skin again. He wouldn't allow Black and Lupin to gang up on him, Lupin ineffectually trying to calm the mutt down...

And he wouldn't let them paw her.

He Apparated to the meeting purposefully early, before most of the rest of the members arrived. Ostensibly, it was to get a seat at the back, and not have to 'mingle' with the rest of them, but in reality he needed to be there before the so-called Golden Trio were allowed to arrive. It was the beginning of the Christmas hols, and they would be at the Burrow, but Arthur Weasley had already announced they would be coming with him and Molly to the meeting. Potter wanted to visit his godfather, and the other two would be stuck closely to him like the worst toadies.

Severus let himself in quietly so as not to disturb the harridan portrait of the late Mrs. Black, and he made his way soundlessly into the Library. He could already hear Black's unctuous voice, and Severus froze, listening intently, his anger rising with each breath he took.

The Granger girl was already there, and he could sense from her stance that she was uncomfortable and uncertain. Black was already touching her, pressing in close, already trying to put his arms underneath her Muggle jumper, saying things like "This could be our little fun secret, couldn't it? Nobody has to know, do they? You don't want to upset Harry and give him the wrong idea, do you?"

And the look on her face! Fear and disgust, and underlying it, a latent, innocent arousal, awakened, unbidden, unwanted, shocking and shaming the girl even as it was being summoned against her will.

Suddenly, Sirius pressed her against the bookcase, pushing his slim hips lewdly against hers. He pressed his hands against either side of her head, trapping her against the dusty shelf.

"I can't help it, dear. I think about you constantly. I've missed having you here. You're so beautiful. Hasn't anyone ever told you that, love?" He was already leaning in, leaving the girl little choice, when Severus quietly cleared his throat.

She looked up at Black uncertainly, and her fearful eyes flickered toward Severus. It was an invitation any man could read. Any man, it seemed, except Sirius Black. Help me.

Severus kept his voice steady and slightly bored. "Miss Granger, might I have a word? I think you missed part of your holiday assignment in your haste to escape the castle yesterday."

Both she and Sirius froze at the initial sound of Severus' imperious voice in the doorway, and Hermione threw him a glance that was at once frightened and grateful. She quickly ducked under Sirius' arms and strode toward her Potions professor, and Severus was mildly alarmed to see her shiver slightly.

"Thank you, sir. I'm sorry." She gulped and smiled weakly at him. "I was in rather a hurry yesterday."

"Indeed," he retorted, smoothly, his voice soft and silvery. Severus kept his eyes locked on Black's, daring him to interfere.

Hermione stood before Severus, waiting for him, and he stepped aside, sweeping his arm toward the door to usher her out of the Library. As the girl moved past him, she walked with her head down, her face scarlet. Severus glared at Sirius, who simply smiled and quirked a knowing eyebrow.

"Assignment, Snivellus? Don't you think you could come up with a little better excuse than that?"

Severus gave Black his second-best sneer. "I don't need an excuse to rescue the child from your clutches, Black." He stepped closer. "Leave. Her. Alone," he hissed, his black eyes flashing in anger.

Black merely laughed. "Jealous, Snape? Don't be. I'm sure there's plenty to go around. She is a lovely little peach, isn't she?"

For a moment, a red mist covered Severus' vision and he drew his wand. "Shut your filthy mouth or I'll shut it permanently, Black!"

"Oh really?" Sirius retorted, his playful stance hardening. "And what sort of message will that send, Snivellus? The great Severus Snape, dueling over a little girl!"

Black's once-handsome face grew pale and ugly. He spat, "You don't fool me, Snape! You've been sniffing around her little tail since her third year! Oh, Remus told me all about it! You're just jealous that she's turning to me for a little experience. How can I help it that she's curious to know what it's like to be with a real wizard? She certainly wouldn't learn it from you!" His gaze swept down Severus' form with contempt. "Do you honestly think a little treat like Hermione would ever be anything but disgusted by her greasy Potions teacher?"

Severus snarled in rage and raised his wand. A steadying hand grasped his wrist, and Remus Lupin murmured quietly in Severus' ear, "That would be very unwise, Severus. I don't know what's going on between you two this time, but the other Order members are arriving and I think you both should join us."

Almost spitting in fury, Severus lowered his wand and strode from the room, Black's laughter ringing behind him.

In the corridor, the Granger girl stood frozen, her eyes wide and troubled. He brushed by her without so much as acknowledging her presence, even when her heard her softly spoken, "Thank you, sir."

With the terrifying speed that made him such a deadly dueling opponent, he whipped round and faced the girl, still seething. "If you'd stop flaunting yourself in front of every wizard you see, you wouldn't be in need of rescuing, Miss Granger. Perhaps the next wizard to come upon you and Black may not find the thought of fucking you so…" He raked his eyes over her slim frame, a look of pure distain marring his features. "Unpalatable."

With those words, he quickly disappeared into the front room, leaving the bewildered girl standing in the hall. He did not see her dash up the stairs and ward her bedroom. He did not know that she wept in shame during the Order meeting, which was tedious and unfruitful, and cost him several moments under the Cruciatus Curse later that evening.

She did not know that the meeting was so tedious because Severus could not get her stricken expression out of his mind, and had paid little attention to the actual motions of the meeting. Nor did she know that, while he screamed and lost control of his bodily functions under the Cruciatus, he was thinking about how he would feel if he had to watch her suffer. She did not know that, in one brief, selfish, yearning moment of self-preservation, Severus Snape sealed her fate alongside his.

You can find Tobias Snape's favourite record The Albion Band, Rise Up Like The Sun, online. T