Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

And They Didn\'t Live Happily Ever After	By : ElizabethStump Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 90306 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 10
- 11
- 12
"And They Didn't Live Happily Ever After"
Chapter Eleven
"Happy Victory Day"
Disclaimer: Yeah, yeah. We know, but I still should say it. I don't own any of it; Rowling owns it all. No money is being made from my mediocre writings.
============
Hermione didn’t like what she saw when she looked in the mirror.
"You look about as chipper as a turkey on Thanksgiving Day, honey," the mirror quipped. The relevance of the American holiday celebrating the mass consumption of the large poultry was rather lost on Hermione. "What's wrong? Someone done run off wit' cho' man?"
Hermione had bought the charmed glass at a steep discount, as it had an American Southern accent with a cheeky attitude and brutally honest opinion. It was times like these that she thought plain Muggle mirrors were far superior to their magical counterparts. To her dismay however, she knew the mirror was right.
She forced a smile on her face that didn't quite reach her eyes.
Her reflection winked back at her. "That's right. You keep telling yourself you're all right. Denial isn’t just a river in Egypt, honey,” the mirror drawled with a twang.
"Quiet," she hissed, glad that Ron was still in the shower. "Anymore talk like that and you'll be floating at the bottom of the Thames… face down."
Hermione wanted to rub her face in frustration, but she restrained her impatience. She didn’t want to smear her freshly applied make-up. Normally, she found the candor of the mirror appealing when compared to the sycophantic ones that hung in the places she and Ginny shopped, but those types of remarks around Ron today would certainly not be welcome.
The mirror quietly muttered under its glassy breath, "Just 'cuz I read your beads, missy… ungrateful limey…"
Looking at herself one last time, Hermione decided that her best robes were most certainly out of fashion. She had three sets of robes to wear: maroon, navy blue and black. She had her navy robes on and they were looking a bit worn. Hermione was never a slave to fashion, but she did appreciate well-made clothes with classic lines.
Kicking off her brown shoes, she decided the black ones went better with her outfit and slipped them on. She would have liked a pair to match each of her robes, but she just didn't quite have the money. Besides, with robes that old, she might as well wait until she bought new robes and the shoes to match.
Thinking of money, Hermione was wondering how she was going to afford ten Galleons for her next visit to the gigolo. The part of her mind that excelled in Arithmancy took charge of the little math problem.
'Hmm, if I break it into five, that's two Galleons a day. Where can I save two Galleons a day?'
There was only one answer: lunch.
It wasn't as though she ate much to begin with. Even Molly had been complaining she was too thin. Unfortunately, chicken was inexpensive, so she made a habit of buying it most of the time. Fortunately for Ron, the team always provided a good hot lunch for those hungry Quidditch players.
One of the few guilty pleasures she had was going out for lunch. She knew it would be cheaper if she brought her own, but going out to lunch with Harry, Ginny or a few other co-workers from the Ministry was her chance to socialize. Harry always insisted that he pay for her lunch, but Hermione refused on principle. Her two close friends were rich, but that did not make it right that they should pay.
Lately though, Harry wasn't available for lunch. During the past several months he’d been unable to join her. She had found a bunch of girls from the Department of International Magical Cooperation, in which the Department of S&R was a subset, with whom to eat. They weren't intellectual giants, nor did they engage in scintillating conversation on a wide variety of topics. She hung around the fringes of their discussion, occasionally commenting on Ministry policy and some of the historical precedents in which decisions set said policy, when the topic didn’t center on who was dating whom, or fashion.
Hermione performed a quick mental calculation of how much it would cost to make her own lunch – a sandwich, fruit, a beverage and a bag of crisps – versus what she would spend at an establishment. She realized that she could save a little more than two and a half galleons a day. Perhaps she could talk Ginny into joining her for a brown-bagged lunch instead of eating at one of the many luncheon joints located in Diagon Alley.
Maybe after she had grown bored of her gigolo, if his intellect was equally as paltry as that of her contemporaries, she could save enough money in a few months for some very nice day robes and shoes to match.
Pleased that she had found a new goal to strive for, her attitude improved. It was just in time as Ron had just stepped out of the shower.
"You look nice," he commented while running a towel through his hair.
Hermione wasn't sure if he was trying to make her feel better, or if he was sincere. Her light blue top and dark blue skirt did go well with her robes, even if the shades of blue made her look a bit pasty.
Glancing back at Ron as he finished drying off, she looked at his body with a critical eye. With the addition of his face and neck, his arms, legs and shoulders were positively covered in freckles of varying size and color. Even his back and chest held testament to the many summer he spent at the Burrow growing up, days spent shirtless while playing a quick game of Quidditch or de-Gnoming the garden. Some freckles were light coffee colored, some orange and some the color of dark chocolate. Many of them blended into one another. His chest was flat and completely hairless with the exception of a faint trail of red hair that trailed from his navel to his pubic region. He was strong, but his body did not show it. His body was the same as when he was sixteen and finished his last major growth spurt. Long gangly legs, caved-in chest, narrow shoulders and all. It was the perfect body for a Keeper, where a long arm reach was critical, but it still had a very boyish quality about it that didn't make her hormones churn and bubble with vigor.
Ron caught his wife staring at him and he turned his backside to her, shaking his arse in a playful manner.
"Want some of this now, don't we?" he teased.
Hermione laughed at his jocular antics, shielding her eyes as his naughty bits wiggled about. He could usually make her laugh, but he had never really turned her on.
"Come on now. We'll be late if you don't hurry," she reminded him.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Victory Day always filled Hermione with a bittersweet feeling. The day celebrated the ending of terror filled years, but it reminded her of the sacrifices wrought along the way. Her two dearest mentors, Dumbledore and McGonagall, were dead. So were Remus Lupin and Hagrid. To be amongst all the other members of the Order only served to remind her of their absence.
Neville and Luna were talking in a corner of the atrium of the Ministry when Hermione and Ron arrived. They walked over to their old schoolmates and exchanged greetings and hugs.
"Neville, you old dog. How's life been treating you?" The redhead greeted his old Gryffindor roommate with enthusiasm.
Hermione and Luna exchanged idle chitchat for a bit. The two men were still talking when Hermione excused herself to circulate within the crowd, searching for other Order members.
Arabella Figg, with a mewling kitten in her pocket, was talking excitedly with Podmore, who nodded with a glazed expression on his face as Mrs. Figg went on about her latest litter of cats.
Some of the Weasleys had already arrived. The twins were wrangling their twin sets of toddlers, Henkles & Ignacio, and Hortensia & Ingrid, while their wives held their infants, Jasmine and Jasper. It seemed that not only did the twins do everything together, their wives got pregnant at the same time, both with twins the first time and with single children the second time around.
Giving the twins and their wives a nod of recognition and a smile, Hermione went in search of people she hadn't seen in a while. As she passed near the loo, she spotted Tonks chatting with Dedalus Diggle.
"Hermione! Cor blimey! I haven't seen you in a wizard's age," the fuchsia haired Auror called to her.
"Tonks! So good to see you," she warmly returned the greeting. "Dedalus! How have you been?"
"Not bad. I was just telling Tonks here about some work I was doing for the Ministry in France," he said excitedly.
"Really? What sort of work?" Hermione asked. She figured if she was going to start inquiring about Snape, today would be a good day, as many of the other members of the Order might know something of his whereabouts. It would be easier to bring up the topic while discussing the lives of other Order members.
"Remember Hestia Jones?" Hermione nodded to his question. "Well, she left the Auror division after the war and went into diplomatic circles. She got a post in France, sort of like an ambassadorship, and she asked for me to come help with some security matters. I just got back from a month in Paris, as I was telling Tonks here." He was practically bouncing on the balls of his toes. The chartreuse tassel at the tip of his puce hat was doing a dance that distracted Hermione.
"Oh, that sounds like it's fun. Speaking of old members," Hermione said in quieter tones, "do either of you know what happened to Snape and Malfoy?"
Both of her compatriots' mouths fell open and Diggle stopped fidgeting.
Before Hermione could speak further, Tonks grabbed Hermione forcefully by her upper arms and led her into a secluded corner behind a parlor palm and cast a sound buffering charm. Tonks looked Hermione in the eye and the brunette witch never saw the youthful Auror look more serious.
"If you know what's good for you, I suggest you never ask such a question in this building again. You're too nice and honest to be crucified by others with an agenda."
Hermione's eyes went wide with apprehension over the gravity of Tonks was reaction. It told her that there was something very wrong and unsettling going on.
"I'll tell you what I do know." Tonks scanned the crowd to make sure no one was watching her with Hermione. If the ex-Head Girl decided to make a crusade out of the situation, she did not want her name associated with the younger witch. The Auror wanted to keep her job and name out of the papers. "The day the decree came out, Moody called us all into his office and had a talk with us. I can’t reveal anything that was said, because he made us sign a piece of paper, but what I can tell you is, talk to Harry. He would probably know more than I do, and he wasn't at that meeting. I doubt Moody made Harry sign anything when he became an Auror."
Without another word, Tonks walked away from Hermione, casually exiting the spot behind the palms. She was soon talking with Shacklebolt in a friendly manner while Hermione continued standing behind the foliage, drinking in Tonk's revelations.
Stepping out from behind the potted palm, Hermione continued her circuit of the room. When she was close to coming back to where Ron, Neville and Luna were still standing she heard a familiar voice.
"Well, well. I haven't seen you in a while," the man's craggy voice came from behind her.
Hermione spun around and found herself face-to-face with Alastor Moody.
"Alastor," Hermione replied, a little stunned to have come across him.
She fought to clear her mind of the growing dislike for a man she once admired. His magical eye was somewhat disquieting to Hermione. She always felt as if she was making an obvious point of not staring at his aberrant eye.
"Yes, it's been a while." She hoped she didn't seem too standoffish. The man was highly suspicious and any change in her behavior from their previous encounters would produce paranoid speculation.
Smiling as warmly as she could without being over enthusiastic, Hermione looked over her shoulder and spotted Ron. "Would you excuse me? I must speak with my husband."
She hoped her excuse to leave his company quickly was believable, for she really did want to get away from him. With her stubborn and righteous nature, it was too tempting to get into a moral debate with the man over Snape and Malfoy's treatment under the decree.
When Hermione got back to Ron's side, the rest of the Weasleys had congregated in the same area.
Ginny was holding Charlie and Angelina's youngest, Kayleigh. She was cooing to the babe in her arms, looking quite content to hold the child for a while.
"Don't let your mother see you like this. It'll only be fodder for her nagging," Hermione said out of the corner of her mouth.
Sighing, Ginny whispered, "It just makes me wonder sometimes." She gazed back down to the infant, grabbing one chubby fist and kissing it repeatedly as her niece giggled. Kayleigh had Angelina's curly locks and Charlie's blue eyes.
"You don’t mean with…"
Her eyes shot up and looked at Hermione, pleading with her not to say his name.
"We'll talk later, at the Burrow," she replied to Hermione, ending the discussion till later.
"Where's Harry?"
Ginny nudged her head in the direction of the dais erected behind the canvas-curtained fountain. "Up there with Fudge, McPeebles and Dennis."
Hermione stood on her toes to peer over the crowd and spotted Harry looking quite ill at ease on the stage. It was times like this she truly felt sorry for him, as she knew how much he hated the spotlight and how the wizarding world expected him to make his public appearances every year.
Fudge and McPeebles were strutting about the platform, puffing their chests out and bending down to shake the hands of admiring constituents. It was only a few minutes later that Fudge placed his wand to his throat and cast the Sonorus spell.
"Ahem. Welcome witches and wizards," Fudge began, his voice echoing through the grand foyer. "It is with great pleasure that I welcome you all to the dedication of the new fountain on the fourth anniversary of Victory Day."
A round of applause circulated through the room with a few hoots and hollers from the twins.
"If it were not for this very brave man here," Fudge said as he extended his arm towards Harry, "we would not be here today for this joyous occasion."
Harry looked like he wanted to crawl away and avoid the eyes of the whole room on him. McPeebles sidled up and nudged him none too gently, making Harry stumble forward a few steps. He regained his footing and meekly bowed his head a few times before going to stand at the back of the stage, shooting daggers at McPeebles with his eyes as the crowd gave a huge cheer for man who killed Voldemort.
"And on this momentous day, we will now unveil the new fountain commemorating Victory Day."
There was an excited murmur in the crowd as that gave them an idea for the theme of the fountain, which would be shortly revealed.
"First I must thank the Creevey brothers. Colin Creevey for the concept and Dennis Creevey for creating the new masterpiece that we will hope will grace our Ministry atrium for many generations to come."
Dennis came towards the front of the stage and bowed to polite applause.
"And now I reveal to you…" The crowd held it's breath as Fudge swished his wand and the canvas coverings disappeared. "THE FOUNTAIN OF WITCHES AND WIZARDS!"
The water began to spring forth from several spots in graceful arcs. The fountain featured the statues of several prominent wizards and witches on a steeply angled mound that led to a cliff, their wands in the air spouting water over one another. Merlin, the Four Founders of Hogwarts, Ignatia Wildsmith, Barberus Bragge, Mungo Bonham, and Gunhilda of Gorsemoor all stood looking towards two other wizards at the front of the group. There stood the figures of Albus Dumbledore and a nineteen-year-old Harry Potter at the apex near the cliff edge, Harry's wand the highest of the group.
There was a loud cheer from the crowd, but not from Hermione or any of the Weasley clan. Every one of Harry's in-laws knew this was the last thing he would ever want.
Hermione didn’t notice her mouth hanging open at first, as she stood in shock. She knew Harry would not only be upset over this, but apoplectic. He had stated many times in the past that he did not want statues of himself erected.
There was a rush of people towards the fountain to get a better look. Hermione could now see the stage better and caught sight of Harry storming off.
Glancing at Ginny, she saw the look of trepidation fill the young witch's face.
"Harry's going to be furious," Ginny whispered apprehensively.
"I'll go find him," Hermione offered and pushed her way through the throng of people jostling for a better view of the fountain.
She found Harry in a corner with Colin Creevey, fistfuls of the younger wizard's robes clutched in Auror's hands as he shook the younger man. Colin's head bobbed about, fear mounting in his eyes.
"How could you DO THIS TO ME?!?" Harry bellowed, slamming Colin's body up against a wall, his eyes rolling momentarily as his head made contact with the dark wood paneling. "You've made me into some… some fucking legend."
Collin stammered, "I, I, I thought you'd be pleased."
Harry had him pinned tightly against the wall with his forearm under Colin's chin. The trapped man's feet were barely touching the ground. His wide eyes were looking down at Harry like an animal brought to the slaughter.
"Dennis seemed to think it was a good idea."
"Yeah, cause you put the fucking thought into his head. I'm not a hero, you sodding, witless pillock! I don’t deserve to be up there. You talked him into this, you talk him into removing me from that fountain now, before I hex you so you shit barbwire for the rest of your short life!"
Harry tossed him in the direction of Dennis, who was busy talking to reporters. Colin stumbled away towards his brother, shooting nervous glances at his hero and Hermione while rubbing his sore throat.
Hermione approached her distraught friend cautiously.
"Harry?" she spoke gently.
He hadn't heard her, as the blood was still pounding in his ears and the adrenaline rushing through his system blotted out the sounds of the world around him.
"Harry?" she said again, gently placing her hand on his shoulder.
He startled at her touch. "Hermione." He looked about, realizing he had just lost his temper and wondered who had witnessed the altercation.
Everyone seemed to be busy looking at the fountain or congratulating Fudge or the younger Creevey brother for his craftsmanship to bother with Harry. For that one small concession, he seemed grateful.
"You were right, Hermione."
Taken aback by his non sequitur, she replied, "About what?"
"I'm not right in the head." At this admission, he slumped against Hermione and began to sob.
Looking about furtively, Hermione pulled Harry into a broom closet and closed the door, casting a silencing charm on the small enclosure.
She held her friend in her arms and let him cry for a while. When the wailing and tears abated, he pulled back and smiled weakly.
"Thanks," he muttered thickly.
"What are friends for?"
He glanced up at her briefly from his lowered head. "Ginny and I talked over the weekend," he confessed, his voice still shaking with emotion.
Hermione swallowed hard and hoped she didn't look nervous. She remained silent in hope that Harry would continue.
"We talked quite a bit, actually. She was pretty understanding when I told her about… Voldemort… in my head, his memories and all. She told me all about Tom Riddle. Things he said to her, did to her."
Her mind flooded with Ginny's confessions, remembering all the things mentioned in previous conversations.
"She said she understood why I can’t do the things she wants in bed and she seemed willing to accept it."
Hermione bit the inside of her cheek. She knew the real reason why Ginny would never ask Harry again for those particular sexual favors.
"I'm just afraid that if I tap into that part of me, I'll never turn it off ever again. I'll be tainted by the dark if I start accessing that part of me," he confessed hoarsely.
Hermione watched him as his eyes darted from side to side as he collected his thoughts.
"Do you know why Ron dropped out of Auror training, Hermione?"
She had never really confronted Ron on that issue, as he always seemed to duck answering her in any satisfactory manner.
"He doesn't have it in his nature to do what needs to be done at times. What you just saw, with Colin, that was just a taste of what I have to do at times. I have to use the anger, the rage and darkness inside of me to do what's right. That's the only way I stay sane, convincing myself that what I do is for good and that I haven’t been spoiled from the inside out by Voldemort's memories. Ron is too nice and good-natured to do what needs to be done as an Auror. That's why he dropped out. I talked him out of it so he wouldn't lose his soul… like me."
If she hadn't been holding onto Harry, she would have dropped to the floor out of shock. Her knees buckled and she leaned against Harry in light of his revelations. She had always sensed that he was a changed person after the war, but she hadn’t known how bad the damage was. A wave of guilt crashed over her with the news that Harry had talked her husband out of becoming an Auror. All the resentment she held over his career change now seemed too much for her to bear. He did it, on Harry's recommendation, to stay innocent in a way that Harry could no longer be.
They both stood silently for a while.
When Harry finally pulled away, Hermione cleared her throat. "Maybe," she began tentatively, "tomorrow you can swing by the Muggle Alliance Network and see if there is a psychiatrist you could see. They're bound to patient confidentiality, so there's no worry about anything you say getting into the papers."
The Muggle Alliance Network was a new department within the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes, as a sub-department of the Muggle-Worthy Excuse Committee. During the war, Dumbledore began arranging a list of all the parents and siblings of Muggle-borns, so that if the need arose, if the war turned badly, many witches and wizards could go underground in the Muggle world while the Order regrouped. Soon, the list expanded to include the jobs of those on the list. It had proved quite useful for witches and wizards who needed the odd service or good that could not be procured through the wizarding world. Hermione's parents had a twenty-percent increase in business once they joined the Muggle Alliance.
Harry sniffed, wiping his nose on the sleeve of his robe, strongly reminding Hermione of his boyhood days at Hogwarts. If it wasn't for the world-weary look in his eyes, she could have sworn he was still only seventeen years old.
"Yes, that sounds like a good idea. I guess I finally realized that I do need to talk about some things," he admitted.
'Yes, especially about your horrid Aunt and Uncle for one,' she thought bitterly.
Hermione was amazed at the resiliency of Harry's spirit, especially after meeting his family.
She glanced at the door then back to Harry. "You ready to go back out there?"
He nodded as he stared at a spot on the wall just over Hermione's shoulder.
After ending the silencing spell, Hermione cracked the door open to see if the coast was clear. She saw a sea of red hair in front of her. Evidently, the Weasley clan had seen her haul Harry off to the closet and was providing a protective barrier. If anyone did see Hermione guide Harry away, they couldn’t get to him through the wall of Weasleys.
"It's all right, Harry," she whispered.
They both exited the ambry unnoticed.
Ron spoke over his shoulder as he nonchalantly looked about the atrium, "Ready to go, mate?"
"Thanks, Ron," Harry replied. "Let's go back to the Burrow."
The Weasley clan, who had been milling about, dispersed and began walking towards the fireplaces to Floo back to the Burrow. Children, unaware of the scene their uncle created, ran about as their parents began to corral them.
Ginny walked up to Harry and slipped her arm into his as they strode away.
Hermione watched this simple endearing gesture. It was evident from the look on Ginny's face that she did love Harry, but in a way that only could be described as platonic. Hermione wondered if she looked the same way when she looked at Ron.
Glancing over her shoulder, she spied Colin frantically trying to convince Dennis to remove the statue of Harry from the bronze formation.
Colin's eyes briefly caught sight of Hermione, who was scowling at him. He averted his eyes quickly, not forgetting the slew of hexes Hermione cast upon him after that rather revealing picture of her was published in the Daily Prophet after her N.E.W.T.s.
The vindictive and vengeful part of her that she frequently denied existence too bubbled to the surface. If Harry ever needed help with some additional hexes to place on Colin, she knew of an especially painful one that resulted in pissing fire.

============
A/N: I figure the same department that Percy worked in that dealt with cauldron bottom thickness would be the same department that would regulate imported potion ingredients.
- 10
- 11
- 12
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

And They Didn\'t Live Happily Ever After