Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

To have loved, and lost (was Missed Chances)	By : professorflo Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 10669 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters within. I make no money from this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Remebrance
- 2-2.
- 3-3.
- 4-4.
- 5-5.
- 6-6.
- 7-7.
- 8-8.
- 9-9.
- 10-10.
- 11-11.
- 12-12.
- 13-13.
- 14-14.
- 15-15.
- 16-16.
- 17-17.
- 18-18.
- 19-19.
- 20-20.
- 21-21.
- 22-22.
- 23-23.
- 10
- 11
- 12
Decades of experience in caring for upset and distraught students meant the in no time at all Minerva had managed to manoeuvre Severus onto his sofa, a comforting cup of tea in his hands. A blazing fire roared in the hearth, and he was vaguely aware that the bottles and other detritus that had been piling up had disappeared. An air freshening charm had clearly been applied to the room, and for the first time in weeks Severus realised just how foul he actually smelled, now that the alcohol haze and the fumes from the empty bottle had dissipated.

He stared blearily into his cup, unable to look up and meet the gaze of the witch beside him, embarrassment over the tears he’d shed on Minerva’s shoulder warring with his shame for the disgusting state she’d found him in.

“What happened, Severus?”

“I lost her,” he croaked painfully, his voice dusty with disuse.

Her eyes flicked up toward the mantelpiece, and he turned to look at the photo that sat there still, the one he’d found under the pillow in her room. It still sat right where he’d left it with the intention of tormenting himself with what he’d done to her. It had worked all too well. The image tugged at his heart every time he looked at it. Two very different expressions; one full of happiness and hope for the future, the other sly and mocking.

He turned his face from it in disgust with himself. How could he have been such a fool? He’d lusted after one girl for so many years and then deified her, when not only did she not care for him, but turned her back on him so easily. He could see now that she never would have been right for him.

“I don’t understand, my boy. I’ve seen Hermione at the Ministry this past week, but she refuses to talk about you.”

“You saw her… how is she? Has she been well?” he asked eagerly, desperate enough for any news to forget his usual stoic demeanour.

Minerva looked at him sharply for a second before replying. “She’s thin; thinner than I’ve seen her before, and it certainly doesn’t suit her. I heard from Kingsley that she took almost a week off, which is unheard of. He doesn’t recall her taking any of her annual leave since she started in the Minister’s Office. She doesn’t look well, Severus, but she won’t tell anyone what happened.”

Severus had no reply, closing his eyes and grimacing as if in agony. Even free of him as she now was, he still couldn’t help but bring her pain.

“I saw the two of you only a few months ago, at one of the Ministry balls. You looked so… enamoured of each other. The two of you could barely take your eyes off each other. What could surely have happened since then? When I heard that the law was being repealed I was sure you wouldn’t be among the hordes of couples getting their marriages dissolved.”

Every word she said seemed to eat at him. They’d presented such a convincing picture to the outside world yet their marriage had been rotten at the core all the time.

Minerva continued, flaying his soul further. “And weren’t the two of you courting before the marriage law was even announced? I must say that it wasn’t the easiest thing to hear at first; my prized lion taking up with a snarky old snake like you…”

Snape winced, but Minerva didn’t seem to realise how her words stung.

“… but once I’d thought about it, it actually made a lot of sense. There’s no one her own age that would suit her, and you’re both…” She trailed off, suddenly noticing his ashen face and pained expression. “Oh, I’m a bletherin’ eejit!” she said, reaching out to pat his hand comfortingly. “Look at me blabbering on and making it even worse. I’ve not even let you get a word in…”

“It was all a lie!” Severus blurted suddenly, unable to contain it a moment longer, and startling the elderly witch beside him. “A con… all of it… just to get what I wanted. I didn’t even care about how she felt until it was all too late”

“Whatever do you mean? Surely it can’t be as bad as all that,” she replied, shocked by his outburst.

“I knew…” he moaned. “I knew about the law, the whole thing, months in advance… Lucius… He even had the announcement put back a few weeks so Draco had time to marry his pureblood wife. When I learned I was going to have to tie myself to one witch… she was the only choice.” He turned his head away from her. “It’s not like I didn’t have other options – there have been plenty of witches interested in me in the last few years.” Severus tried to keep the bitterness out of his voice, but knew he had failed miserably. Stupid bitches hadn’t cared who he was until he’d helped to destroy the Dark Lord. “…But she was the only one… that was interested in me and not my fame… the only one who didn’t ask about…” He paused for a moment, looking down at his arm as he unconsciously clenched and unclenched his fist. “So different from those emptyheaded, vain fools. She was the only one I knew I’d be able to stand for more than a shag or two.”

Minerva’s cheeks pinched in at his language, but she chose not to comment on it. “That doesn’t sound as bad as I’d feared. I thought for a moment you’d used a potion or something to persuade her. Yes, you took advantage of your knowledge of her feelings for you to secure her, but considering how I know she’s felt about you for so many years, surely she was happy enough, especially when that stupid law came out. She would have had to marry someone, and at least she was with the person she wanted to be with. Besides, your own reasoning for your choice is far better than most I know who were forced into marriage. At least the two of you are suitable in terms of personality and interests, I’m sure at least ninety percent of the other marriages were based on money or a lust for youth and beauty. It’s no wonder almost all of them have been dissolved. At least you two had a chance…”

He still couldn’t look at her. “No, Minerva. You don’t understand. It was exactly that that I wanted her for too,” he said quietly.

Five months earlier
Severus paced back and forth across the worn carpet of his living room. His agitation had barely diminished since earlier that day, when on a trip to Knockturn Alley to purchase some rather shady ingredients, he’d picked up a copy of the Prophet in Diagon Alley with the intention of checking up on his wife, seeing as he was more likely to find out what she was up to from reading the papers than from her. What he had found on the 5^th page once he had returned home had sent him into a rage, and he had not been able to concentrate on anything. Several potions and blown up before he’d given it up as a bad job and taken to pacing, thinking furiously as his feet tried to wear a hole in the already worn carpet.

Despite his usual inability to hold his temper when his honour was being insulted, Severus had let almost a year pass without confronting his wife over his belief in her infidelity, as. He hadn’t, however, been sitting back and doing nothing. He now had piles of parchments, carefully hidden and warded in his lab, detailing her movements over the past weeks; how often she arrived late, even on occasional not coming home at all, and the time she spent away from home on the weekends. He’d followed her on many occasions, noting where she went and who she’d interacted with. He’d put all his considerable experience as a spy to use, spending hours poring over his notes and trying to find a pattern, yet he’d not been able to discover the identity of the misbegotten mongrel that was fucking his wife. Of course it wasn’t his fault that he’d failed in his endeavours so far. He still had a busy potions business to run, and he knew from experience that she was, on occasion, devious enough to be Slytherin.

And devious she must have been, to have managed to outfox him so far. Unless her paramour was from his old house. That would explain how they’d managed to meet without him finding out. Slytherins were extremely adept at hiding what they didn’t want known, and often had the financial resources to pay anyone off who did know something. Of course with all the comings and goings around the Minister’s office it wouldn’t be all that hard for someone to hide more personal interactions behind a screen of business. His wife seemed to thrive on it all, though, and of course with her penchant for planning every day down to the minute she would be more than capable of hiding something illicit amongst everything else she did.

He’d not really realised quite how hard she worked before, although considering how she used to throw herself into her studying he really should have known. Before he’d started spying on her he’d been under the impression that she was just a paper-pusher, organising and keeping track of everything that came into and out of the Minister’s office, despite what Lucius had to say about her, so he was surprised to see how much time she spent out of the office, attending meeting and going backwards and forwards between different departments, encouraging (or browbeating) them into compliance. He’d also attended one open session that she’d taken, detailing new measures pertaining to different laws, although of course he’d been polyjuiced at the time.

Some strange feeling had bloomed in his chest as he’d looked round at the packed room, everyone listening intently as his wife explained how the new rights and freedoms of various magical being would affect the wizarding world. Whatever he had been feeling, however, had quickly dissipated when he spotted more than one specimen of male inanity eyeing her with a more than friendly gleam in his eyes. He looked at her consideringly. She really had blossomed from the ugly duckling she had been at school. She’d lost weight, he’d realised, and although it lent a new elegance to the structure of her cheekbones and a more fashionable slimness to her waist, he wasn’t so sure that he hadn’t preferred her with a few extra pounds on her.

For the rest of the talk he’d watched her carefully for the slightest sign that she might know any of her admirers, but there’d been no hint of anything improper. He’d seen enough hormone driven teenagers over the years to know what someone looked like when they were attracted to another, even when they were trying to be subtle about it. And he knew all too well what she looked like in that situation, having first watched her dismal attempts to attract the Weasely idiot, and then her badly hidden attraction to himself. The disappointed look on the faces of those that didn’t get the chance to speak to her afterwards, surrounded by mewling sycophants as she was, had made him want to pull out his wand a send a few nasty hexes their way. Lusting after her so openly like that was unseemly, especially knowing as they must that she was married.

Severus hadn’t, of course, been able to gain access to any of the private meetings she attended as part of her responsibilities, although he had made an effort to find out who she was meeting with, using information from various sources he’d cultivated years before, and who had no idea who they were dealing with, although finding out the topics of such discussions were far harder than discovering who was actually there. The meetings after hours were generally the ones he was most concerned with, as he’d quickly found that they were next to impossible to gather any information about, seeing as they were either held in the less public areas, or even away from the Ministry itself. He’d even discovered that those particular meetings weren’t in any official diary, and neither was there any record of them, increasing his suspicions further.

At first he had wondered if some of these meeting were not actually assignations with her lover, but on the occasions he had managed to observe whoever came to meet her he’d not seen the same person twice, and unless his wife was carrying on with either a woman or one of the venerable old codgers in the Wizengamot, he had no idea who she was cheating on him with. Of course, there was always the chance they might be using polyjuice, but few had the money, or the patience, to either buy or brew that amount. At least if she was fucking a Slytherin it would explain how well hidden their affair was, as well as where the money for polyjuice would come from. There weren’t many Slytherins that he could think of, however, that would take a muggleborn to their beds though, not unless they were playing her for their own ends. Somehow that thought always infuriated him, although he couldn’t say exactly why.

Of course, he took his frustrations out on her in his own way, by pounding her into the mattress twice a week as he fought to supress images of some other man lying between her legs, and wishing she wasn’t so cold and unreceptive with him. The idea of her crying out her pleasure in another’s bed made him want to show her how much better it could be with him, but she would always stop any attempt to make their coupling more enjoyable for herself, and instead he had to content himself with her muffled gasps. Her face, when he eventually rolled off her, was always pale and emotionless, although there was something vulnerable in the expression of his eyes and the way she would quickly roll from him so as not to have to meet his eyes.

Day to day life had become even more strained, on the occasions she was actually at home. He rarely left the lab except to eat or sleep, mainly because there was so much brewing to catch up with. He left her mainly to herself, relieved that fro once she was home, although he wasn’t above altering the wards so he knew when she left. He would often find her reading or knitting quietly in the sitting room, her solitary figure somehow small and pathetic in the gloomy room.

Rarely would he join her, and only when the book he wanted to read was too delicate to be lugging around the house. He certainly didn’t have many books he was willing to take to his lab besides a couple of easily replaceable potions texts. Even the journals he used to keep track of his experiments in were spelled to automatically copy themselves into another set he kept hidden and warded in his room, in case of any accidents with whatever he was brewing.

Being in her company was all too uncomfortable, especially in a house that seemed to swallow the slightest noise, leaving nothing but bad memories echoing around the empty rooms. His wife’s unhappiness with their marriage had not bothered him to begin with, but now it seemed to sometimes loom over him as something akin to his own mother’s despair. He had become all too aware of her eyes upon him as he read, silently accusing him, and he would never stay for longer than he needed before escaping either to his room or back to the lab. It was the same at any meals they took together. Conversation was limited to the necessities, although he sometimes found himself wanting to say more. He would always flee as soon as possible.

Even worse than having to sit across from her, eating dinner in awkward silence, were the times they were forced to attend Ministry functions. The slew of balls and other events starting in December and reaching through into Spring had been most inconvenient, bound as he was to accompany his wife, but Severus could at least take the chance to observe who she spoke to, and how she acted. It certainly seemed a better opportunity to discover the identity of her lover than trying to get a handle on the goings on at the Ministry. The only problem was that while there were several men at every ball obviously enamoured of her, constantly asking for more dances and trying to commandeer all her time and conversation, there was never a sign from her that she was anything more than coolly polite to those who vied for her attention.

In the end he would always feel obliged to accompany her as she made her way round the room, instead of occupying his usual spot in a corner. At least then his presence was enough to quail even the most ardent suitor. Why they were not fazed by the knowledge that she was already married, unless he was actually standing by her side, threatening any young male who dared approach with his best glare, he did not know. The few that braved his disapproval and asked her to dance were usually her annoying friends or members of the Order, as well as one or two Ministry officials, although he graciously refrained from glaring down any member of the Wizengamot or ‘important’ members of their society with whom socialising was the whole reason to attend those ridiculous events. Not that she agreed with his notion of ‘not glaring’, as at some point during the night she would always quietly hiss at him to stop scaring away the people with whom she needed to speak.

Even the sight of another’s arms around his wife, friends or not, made his blood boil, however. More often that he would admit to, he would interrupt their dance and pull her into his own embrace, pressing her tights against him and looking around at the room as if to dare them all to say something about him dancing with her. He would look down to see her, blushing like a new bride as he led her around the room. On one occasion she’d even tucked her head under his chin, her cheek against his chest, and unconsciously he’d tightened his hold on her, his hard glare softening as he breathed in the soft perfume of her hair, and revelled in the delicate curves of her willingly pressing against him.

Now, however it was all he could do to stop himself from apparating to the Ministry and confronting her with his discovery. There would be no gentle entwining of their bodies this time. It would be hard enough not to grab her and shake her until she confessed all concerning her affair. Of course, it would be unseemly for him to do such a thing in private, let alone in front of so many witnesses, so instead he continued to pace back and forth while he tried to ignore the newspaper that lay open on a small table near the fireplace. The movement kept catching his eye, seemingly mocking him with what the image contained, and the only thing keeping him from blasting it into oblivion was its use as proof of his suspicions when his wife came home.

She had been photographed entering a private room at the back of the Leaky Cauldron with Janus Rosier, a pureblood who had finished at Hogwarts the same year she started. He had been too young to have taken the Dark Mark the first time around, and had escaped the second time, despite the fact that many in his family had followed the Dark Lord, by conveniently being aboard. He was defiantly Death Eater material though. Severus could remember more than one incident when a muggleborn had been jinxed or hexed by either him or his friends, although he had always been clever enough that he hadn’t actually been caught doing it. He’d likely left the country with the intention of staying clear of any fighting, although his family connections would have held him in good stead had the Dark Lord been victorious. Since his parents and various uncles and cousins were now languishing in Azkaban, or dead, he was now one of the leading members of the Rosier family, one of the sacred twenty-eight, and enjoyed all the power and wealth that came with such a position.

Why, then, was he doing business with Hermione in such a place. Rosier may have had to deal with her as a key aide to the Minister, although Severus had never been under the impression he had any political leanings, but he couldn’t imagine why they would choose to meet in a private room outside of Ministry hours unless there was something underhand going on. The headline on the story suggested some legitimate Ministry business as the reason, although Severus didn’t believe it. If the date had been a couple of years earlier the headline would have proclaimed some torrid affair, but since Skeeter no longer worked for the Prophet it no longer ran defamatory articles about her, instead following her career as the current rising star in the Ministry. For a moment Severus wished he had never ‘suggested’ to the editor that slandering his wife was a bad idea, as right now she deserved to have her name dragged through the mud. It had only taken one look at the picture for Severus to jump to the conclusion that the Prophet hadn’t.

Here was the proof for him that she was having an affair, as well as who with. He’d bloody well known it was a Slytherin. Despite the fact that old prejudices died hard, especially in his old house, the power that she currently wielded in her position was enough to make her desirable as a lover, although if she hadn’t been quite so pleasing to the eye, as well as an accomplished and powerful witch in her own right, no self-respecting pureblood would have been willing to debase himself with her. As it was Severus was convinced the bastard was only using her for his own ends, and as soon as her usefulness diminished he would doubtless drop her.

The rage he felt at his wife being treated in such a way was palpable, and it took all his effort not to lash out with either his magic or his fists. There was little to hand besides his books, which were far too valuable, and in some cases irreplaceable. He knew he needed to get hold of himself before she appeared. Throwing up a hasty shield around the bookshelves he released a burst of magic, all the more wild for being wandless, and therefore uncontrolled and undirected. With a shriek of splintering wood something tore apart behind him. Belatedly he threw up a shield around himself, stopping all but a couple of splinters that made it through to pierce his left shoulder and his side. He barely felt them.

Turning to see what damage he’d wrought, he smirked. Clearly his magic hadn’t been all that uncontrolled. The high backed chair that she always sat in lay in pieces, shards of wood and scraps of fabric scattered across the room and even buried in other pieces of furniture. As satisfying as it was to see, now that he’d released all that pent up rage and could see more clearly again he knew he should mend the chair before she saw it. It wouldn’t do for her to know the effect she had on him.

Pulling his wand from out his sleeve, he was about to cast a reparo on it, but to his dismay the fake bookcase swung open and Hermione stepped through into the room, pulling up short as she saw the carnage he’d wrought.

She looked around the room, as if to search for hidden attackers, before rushing towards him anxiously.

“What happened? Are you injured?”

He took a small step back, and she pulled up short of launching herself at him, and a fleeting expression of hurt crossed her face.

“There’s no need to concern yourself. I just had a little… mishap with a spell.”

The splinter embedded in his side chose that moment to make itself known, and although he tried to hold back his pained hiss, he was unsuccessful, drawing her attention to his injuries.

“You are injured! What have you done to yourself?”

“Nothing.” He tried to shrug nonchalantly, but it only pulled on the wound more and he winced, betraying himself by pulling his arm close to his side as if to stop further pain.

“Turn around and let me see.” She stepped towards him and pushed him gently so he would spin. Her small fingers ran across his back down to his side, and the unwanted pleasant feeling, even through his layers of clothing, made him stiffen and pull away. He could only wonder if she caressed him in such a way. She had certainly not touched Severus like that since the night of the Ministry ball when she’d danced with Lucius. He could feel his blood begin to boil once more at the memory. Hermione ignored his reaction as she pulled out her wand, and he could hear as she used it to further split open the small rip on his clothing so she could get to the piece of wood. There was a slight tugging as she spelled it out, then a cool sensation as she healed the hole it had left.

He couldn’t restrain himself any longer. “I saw today’s newspaper. What were you doing with Rosier?” he spat out.

“You know I’m not supposed to divulge Ministry business.” She moved on to the other splinter.

Nice try… Perhaps if he’d been one of her idiotic friends and not a consummate Slytherin who’d been dissembling since before she’d been born he might not have noticed the way she’d managed to avoid actually answering the question. He decided to go for the blunt approach.

“Are you having an affair?”

Her hands stilled for the slightest moment before resuming their work of pulling the fabric away from the gash in his shoulder. “Whatever gave you that impression?” She sound completely incredulous.

“You’re out late. You’ve been seen…..

She abandoned his shoulder for a moment, stepping around him to search his face intently with curious eyes. “Why, Severus, one could almost think you cared,” she replied lightly.

He snorted with distain, although the expression felt forced somehow.

“Jealous then?” Her wry smile was so slight that another might miss it.

“Hardly,” he answered caustically. “But you are my wife, and as such you will not make a fool out of me and our and discredit our marriage in such a way.

She let out a bark of laughter that seemed more bitter than amused. “You’re one to talk, Severus, considering that, by your own admission, you’ve never been faithful to me, not for a second.”

“What are you talking about, witch? I’ve not touched anyone besides you since before we started courting.”

She was silent for a moment, looking at him incredulously like he’d missed something ridiculously obvious. “I’m not talking about physically. I mean in here,” she eventually said, in a voice far calmer than he could expect, as she pressed both hands to her heart. Her voice grew bitter. “Do you imagine her when you were screwing me? Do you wish it were her beneath you instead of me?

Severus blinked, taken aback by her question. Now that he thought about it, Lily had never been a part of his erotic imaginings, not since he’d started to see Hermione in that light. How had he not realised that he’d stopped thinking of her in that way.

He turned his back on Hermione in confusion, unwilling to let her see him so discomposed. He had no answer to give her, not one that he wanted to admit to out loud anyway. Surprisingly, she took the opportunity to start working on his shoulder, although he couldn’t understand quite why she was willing to help him, even now. It took only a few moments for her to pull the splinter from his skin and patch up both the small would and his torn clothing. When finished, she was still and quiet behind him for a few moment, and he assumed she was still waiting for him to speak. Finally she seemed to realise he wasn’t going to give her any reply, and with a quiet sigh she began to move towards the stairs. The rustle of her clothes then stopped, although he knew she hadn’t yet left.

“Just so you know, Severus, I’m not having an affair. I know you clearly don’t, but I’ve always believed in the sanctity of marriage. I may be disappointed in how this has all worked out, but as long as you’re my husband I’ll never touch another man.”

Severus didn’t respond. He didn’t know how. After a moment he heard her leave, and as soon as he knew by the creaking of the floorboards above that she’d retreated to her own room, he sank into his chair and laid his head in his hands.
- 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

To have loved, and lost (was Missed Chances)