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Shattered	By : Adriana Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 11986 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
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.

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Shattered

by Adriana

trixielou60@hotmail.com

************************************

Your kisses close my eyes and yet you stare

As though God struck a child with nameless fears;

Perhaps the water glitters and discloses

Time's chalice and its limpid useless tears.

Everything we renounce except our selves;

Selfishness is the last of all to go;

Our sighs are exhalations of the earth,

Our footprints leave a track across the snow.

From the poem, "Goodbye" by Alun Lewis

*******************************************

Chapter 14: Goodbye

Hermione quickly made her way to the dungeons, her hair
flowing behind her as she ran. At the moment, her thoughts were laden with
confused emotions and she felt a tightening in her throat at the thought of
Severus leaving Hogwarts without her. She uttered the password to his chambers
with a hoarse croak and entered to find the room darkened, except for the soft
orange glow of the fire. Severus had his back to her and was leaning heavily
against the fireplace, his hands clutching the mantle as his head rested in
weary repose.

Strengthening herself against what was to come, Hermione drew herself up and
plastered a determined look on her face. She wasn't going to cry and she
certainly wasn't going to give in to a useless wave of hysteria. "He's
alive," she told herself. "Things could be so much
worse."

Before she could speak, he turned to her, and the look in
his eyes would haunt her for weeks to come. "They look the way his
kisses feel," she thought, "All soft and hard at the same
time." They stared at each other for a lmomemoment before he finally
broke the silence.

"You can't come with me, so don't even ask," he said quietly. "I
have to do this alone."

"I know," she answered. "I've come to say goodbye."

"So say it, then," he said harshly. He closed his eyes.

"Severus, look at me," she said. Walking over to him, she touched his
arm. The only sign he gave that he'd heard her at all was a slight tremble. He
kept his face turned away from her.

"Look at me," she said again, and he opened his eyes. Hermione was
momentarily stunned by the anguish they held, and then they abruptly changed.
"If you're looking for a bathetic display, I'm afraid you'll be
disappointed," he growled.

She couldn't help the smile that twitched at her lips. "Certainly not! I
was expecting something along the lines of 'snarky'. Thank you for being so
predictable, it's very comforting."

He gave her a hard look before his features relaxed. "I should be angry at
your flippancy, but I find I'm too tired to muster up the emotion," he
sighed ruefully. "I'm losing my touch."

"Never that, Severus." She reached for his hand. "Come sit with
me," she said as she led him to his couch.

Severus sank into the cushions, expecting her to settle in next to him.
Instead, she snuggled into his lap. He stiffened in surprise, but forgot his
objection as she nuzzled her face against his neck and brought her arms around
his waist. His hands instinctively made their way to her hair and his fingers
plucked at her curls. "Why fight it?" he thought. They sat,
wrapped up in each other for several minutes, neither of them willing to break
the companionable silence.

Hermione felt herself relax and closed her eyes to memorize his feel. "This
is going to have to get me through many a lonely night," she thought.
When he finally shifted his weight, her arms tightened around him and she gave
out a soft noise of protest. He spoke softly in her ear.

"We don't have much time, Hermione. Albus will wait just until breakfast
is over to announce my 'death'. I must make my way to his chambers before
then."

"Do you know where you're going?"

"Yes, in a sense. I can't say anything more, except to tell you that
access to me will be limited. I've gathered everything I need and I'll be
leaving within the half hour," He paused and turned to look at her.
"I don't know when I'll see you again," he whispered.

Hermione made a strangled sound in her throat and with a small cry, she began
planting kisses along his cheek, his jaw and his neck. Severus brought his hand
to her face as he hungrily pressed his lips against hers. He felt himself
drowning in the velvet feel of her skin and when she let out a cry of pleasure,
he felt its vibration reach down to rest between his legs. Using her tongue to
gently trace the outline of his lips, Hermione paused to nibble on his lower
lip and was rewarded with a delighted moan from Severus. He arched himself
closer to her.

Breaking their kiss, Hermione looked up at him and whispered, "I have to
feel you . . . I have to feel your skin against me, before you go.
Please."

Wordlessly nodding, Severus began to unbutton his shirt with shaky hands as
Hermione leaned back and struggled out of her robes. Before long, she was
unclothed from the waist up and Severus fought a tide of breathlessness as he
took in the sight of her breasts.

"Beautiful," he breathed, as he reached to touch her. Hermione gasped
at the feel of his warm hands on her skin. Clutching at his shirt, she pulled
it off his shoulders and he paused in his ministrations to help her. Soon they
were kissing again, lips touching lips, tongue touching tongue.

"Nobody has ever made me feel this way," she thought. "Only
him."

Hands roaming freely, they explored each other and Hermione memorized the feel
of his lean muscles under her hands. As his fingers lightly rubbed and pinched
her nipples, she murmured incoherently to him, her voice urging him on. She
returned his touch, running her fingers through the soft, sparse hair on his
chest, as he lowered his lips to her neck and shoulder. He nipped at her
sensitive skin and she let out a quiet groan as her hand ran across his lower
arm.

Suddenly her body stiffened.

In her passion, she had been running her fingertips over his forearm and had
been surprised to feel a ridge of scar tissue in that sea of soft skin. She'd
found his Dark Mark. She felt an unbearable coldness and before she could stop
it, a feeling of desolation and self-loathing filled her and she broke away
from him with a cry. She heard anguished screaming in her head before she could
completely break free.

Breathing heavily, Severus regarded the look on her face and instantly knew
what had happened. Tearing himself away from her, he stood up and hastily began
to put on his shirt. He would not look at her.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I should have known. You're very
sensitive to Dark Magic." He finally looked at her, his face an
inscrutable mask. "This was a mistake."

"No," whispered Hermione. "It was not a mistake. I just
wasn't prepared, that's all. I don't know why, I've known for years that you
carried the Dark Mark. Please don't misunderstand." She began to pull on
her shirt and robe.

"Hermione," he said gently. "Don't you see? I don't know what it
is about you, but all rational thought seems to elude me when I'm with you.
This is merely a reality check. We have incredible obstacles to overcome before
we can be together. I don't even know if it's possible. You've just had a taste
of my not-so-recent past . . . it's unspeakable. Perhaps it's best that I'm leaving
now. Distance is just the thing we need."

"No!" Hermione shouted. "If anything, we need to stay together,
to work this out!"

"Of course you'd say that," he sneered. "Stay and fight the good
fight, is it? How utterly, boringly Gryffindor!"

He couldn't help but throw the insult at her.

"I don't think there's anything to work out right now,
so please, don't make things any harder. You must forget about all this and
concentrate on the potion. It's the most important thing." He grabbed his
robes and walked towards his bedroom door.

"Severus, I don't want to leave things like this. Please just tell me that
you'll give us a chance when this is all over. I don't want us parting under
these circumstances." Hermione fought the tears that threatened to spill.
br>
"I can't promise you anything. I don't know how I feel anymore and I hate
it." He looked at her fiercely. "You are the best and the worst thing
that's ever happened to me," he said, before turning his back on her.
"I have to go, we're running out of time. Albus will keep me informed of
your progress." His voice was hard.

Hermione walked to the outer door.

"I'm letting this go right now, because I have no choice. I'll work hard
on the potion and I'll dream of the day that Voldemort is dead, so we can finally
be together." She angrily waved off his sarcastic voice of protest,
sensing the derisiveness of his tone. "Sod off, Severus!" she shouted
at him. She opened the door and turned, pausing to look at him. The shine of
tears in her eyes transformed her face until she didn't even look real to him.

"If you know nothing else, know this: I love you," she said tenderly.
"Nothing will ever change that."

As she made a hasty exit, Severus felt the stun of her words hit him in the
heart.

*********************************************

Harry looked up at the impersonal, brown-bricked building that housed the staff
of "The Daily Prophet". Pausing to gather his courage, he took in a
deep breath before proceeding to the main entrance. Ginny Weasley had been on
staff here for the past two years, working her way up as an editor in the
"Entertainment" section of the newspaper. After Draco's announcement
earlier that day, he knew that he had to confront her . . . not only about the
night they'd spent together, but about Voldemort's unnatural interest in her.
He wondered how she was going to react.

Despite Ginny's obvious love for him, Harry had never been fully able to
understand her, as there'd been a part of herself that she'd always kept
hidden, especially from her family. Even now, he couldn't fathom the forces
that had driven her to spill her heart out to Tom Riddle during her first year
at Hogwarts. Although surrounded by loving family, she'd been pushed by
loneliness to confide in a boy who'd long since transformed himself into the
ugly epitome of evil. Her reward had been to become an unwilling
almost-sacrifice to the Basilisk, used as bait to lure The-Boy-Who-Lived. It
was as if the event had defined her life.

They never spoke of it.

As he made his way to her office, Harry mentally practiced the things he was
going to say to her. Pushing the doors open, he nodded a greeting to the
wizards and witches who were roaming the halls, some of them rushing to meet
deadlines, others wearing the harried looks of those who'd just been assigned
an impossible story. He couldn't help noticing the covetous looks given to him
by some of the witches he passed. He was used to girls fawning over him, but
because of his consuming involvement in the war, he'd never learned to gracefully
accept their admiration. He usually just ignored their glances, not realizing
that this aloof response only made them want him even more.

Steeling himself, he pushed his way through Ginny's office door, instantly
scanning the room for her. He could hear her voice, seemingly coming from
underneath her desk, and his eyebrows shot up in surprise. Ginny's head popped
up, red-faced and frowning, as she muttered, "I know it's in here
somewhere." She glanced up at him and froze, caught in return surprise.

Her strawberry blond hair stood out in messy display and her light brown eyes
stared at him, stilled in a moment of vulnerability. The colour in her face
drained, leaving two pink spots on her otherwise pale cheeks. Harry sucked in a
breath, afraid of disturbing such an honest moment between them. Everything
fell away . . . the past, the war, their personal history, and they were left
only in the present.

Stripped of all pretense, the room narrowed to just the two of them.

Ginny immediately broke the spell. "What do you want?" she said
harshly. She bustled over to her desk, in an apparent effort to hide behind it.

"Ginny, please," he began, then stopped himself. Why must all their
conversations begin with a plead? All their old interactions simultaneously played
in his head and he mentally cursed his ineptitude.

He cleared his throat. "Let me start again," he said.

She just stared at him, and gave him an imperceptible nod.

"There is so much I want to say, I don't even know where to begin. I
suppose I should start with an apology, but knowing you, you don't care to hear
it." He smiled ruefully at her. "In any case, I'm sorry. We always
seem to end up in bed when I'm feeling bad about myself." His voice
dropped to a whisper. "You don't know how sorry I am about that."

"I do," she said. "But don't trouble yourself over it, I knew
what I was getting into that night. I've always known what I'm getting into.
Well, except once . . . " her voice trailed off.

He looked at her anxiously. "And that's part of the reason I'm here. I
want to talk about him. About what happened in your first year."

"What's there to say? You were there. No, strike that . . . you weren't
there until the very end. Before that, there was Tom." She raised her chin
defiantly. "You may not believe this, but I've learned to deal with what
happened. I've examined my heart and despite evidence to the contrary, I know
what drove me. I know all about regrets, Harry. But why bring it up now? After
all these years?"

"Because it's haunted what's between us for years. Because it's coming
full circle, Ginny," he said with an aura of mystery. "Voldemort
believes he still has unfinished business with you. We've been told that he
plans on conquering the world, and ruling it with you at his side."

To his utter surprise, Ginny began to laugh. That was certainly not the
response he expected. It occurred to him, not for the first time, that he
really didn't know her at all.

Ginny saw the look of distress on his face and instantly regretted her
outburst. "Harry," she said gently, "I always knew it would come
to this. Even as I lay dying on the floor of the Chamber of Secrets, he said
things to me. He told me that he had plans for me, that despite how things
looked, he would never let me die. For years I was ashamed of the way he looked
at me. I was only eleven after all. But eventually, I understood. I know what
it's like to want something you can't have. I pity him. I pity us both,
really."

Harry was disturbed by her quiet acceptance. "Don't feel sorry for him,
Ginny," he snarled. "He's a user and a manipulator! He'll tell you
anything to get you to do what he wants, he's a master at it."

"Don't think I don't know that," she countered. She came out from
behind her desk. "So is this what you came for? To apologize and tell me
Voldemort wants me with him when he's the Wizard King?"

"No," he said in a low voice. Here came the hard part. "I want
you to know that I won't let him near you. Despite what you may think, I do
care about you, very deeply. I won't let anything happen to you."

Rolling her eyes, she muttered, "Typical." She let out a deep sigh
and said, "Isn't it just like you to think you have such control over the
fates? You must be loving this . . . here's your chance to be the hero
again!" She shook her head. "I don't want your help," she said
quietly. "I appreciate what you've said, and I know you're sincere, but I
really have to do this on my own."

Harry got angry. "Do what on your own? Fight Voldemort? Save yourself?
Even Dumbledore can't do that without help from his friends. Please, if not me,
then perhaps Ron or Charlie can help you . . . just don't turn people away
because you're angry at me!" He was shaking.

Ginny gave him a penetrating look, weighing what he'd told her. She sighed in
defeat. "All right, we can talk to Charlie and Ron. Perhaps they can come
up with a feasible plan. But not one involving you," she added. "I
have to put some distance between us, Harry, if I'm ever going to have a shot
at a normal life. I think that's what I want and I know I can't have it with
you. You'll always be a part of my family, but whatever we've had in the past,
it ends here." She looked at him resolutely.

She never looked more beautiful to him and Harry was almost felled at the
thought of losing her. "Gods! Why now?" he wondered in desperation.
She noticed his look of devastation.

"It's right that it ends now," she said with certainty. "I feel
as if a huge weight has been lifted."

"Is that what I've been? A weight?"

"Yes, but it doesn't matter anymore." She felt compelled to comfort
him. "I'll be fine, Harry. Thank you for having the courage to come to me.
I wasn't sure when I saw you, but it was the best thing you could have done. My
family will take care of me and you can take care of Voldemort." She looked
a little uncertain for a moment. "Maybe some day, we . . . I don't
know."

"Maybe some day we can make our way back to each other," he finished
for her.

"Maybe," she said doubtfully. Turning her back to him to shuffle
papers, she said, "I have work to do. You know your way out." She
turned back to him and repeated, "I'll be fine."

e wae was so much more he wanted to say to her, but he realized that this was
not the time. "Goodbye then, Ginny," he said. He walked quickly to
the door, then turned to her. "I'll stay away from you, but I'll be
talking to Ron about all this. There are things he needs to know if he's going
to have a hand in protecting you." With one long, last look at her, he was
gone.

Only after the door closed, did Ginny allow the tears to fall.

"Goodbye, Harry Potter," she whispered.

***********************************************

Severus Snape took in his surroundings and immediately felt a cocoon of
loneliness envelope him like a long, lost friend. He shivered, and out of
habit, turned to share his observations with Hermione, but of course, she
wasn't there. He mentally cursed his lapse.

There was no one to share with, here.

Albus had come up with the idea of putting him into what could only be
described as an "alternate universe", something akin to a pensieve.
However, unlike a pensieve, one's whole body was immersed in this world, as if
one had never otherwise existed. It was a place that Albus had gone to during
the earlier war against Grindelwald, when things had gone badly and he'd needed
a place to hide for a while. He'd taken a book off one of his shelves and had
opened it for Severus, revealing a cloudy portal that only had to be touched in
order for one to be transported. The book served to hide the portal . . . he
was not to be trapped in a book, Albus had assured him.

He told Severus that this world was a kind of a lucid dream, one where he could
surround himself with all the familiar memories of his childhood. Severus found
himself in a replication of the Snape family hunting lodge. He hadn't been
there since before he'd entered Hogwarts, yet it remained solid in his memory.
He looked around and smiled. Perhaps this wouldn't be so bad, after all. He'd
come here as a boy, to hide from his perpetually angry father, and to dream of
things that would never come to pass.

Nothing here was real, except if he willed it to be. He knew that he'd only
have to touch an object to solidify it and if he'd wanted to, he c bri bring
anything here back with him to the "real" world. That was the key. He
could work on the potion and when it was ready he could bring it back with him,
when the time came to confront Voldemort.

He was still feeling somewhat weak and decided that work would have to wait.
Because time didn't exist in this place, he'd brought a pocket watch, to keep
track of day and night. Without it, he would lose the rhythm of time, something
that would not be good for his mental and physical health. While it was still
technically "morning", he felt very tired and allowed himself the
indulgence of resting before he proceeded with his work. Opening one of the
many doors leading from the main hallway, he saw that indeed, a fully stocked
potions lab was a part of this world. That was something new . . . a potions
lab had not existed in the real Snape hunting lodge. Albus had thought of
everything.

There would be time enough for work, later.

Making his way to the kitchen, he brewed himself some tea and looked in the
cupboard for his favorite mug. Finding the chipped black cup, he smiled with
relief. It was nice to know that some things never changed. Pouring himself a
cup of tea, he walked to the dining room and sat alone, wrapped in his
thoughts.

He hadn't been lying when he'd told Hermione that she was the best and the
worst thing that had ever happened to him. He'd been wholly unprepared for her
response. In typical Hermione-fashion, she'd set his world on its ear and then
had quickly disappeared, as if none of it had been real.

She loved him. The thought filled him with both terror and elation.

He shook his head and stood up, walking over to the entrance of the lodge. His
mother had hung a large mirror there, in order to do last minute adjustments to
her toilette before guests would arrive to stay at the hunting lodge. His
father had entertained many friends, and it was common for large gatherings to
occur there over the autumn and winter months. Taking a deep breath, he
regarded his reflection.

Why did she love him? He could scarcely believe it. He was not a handsome man,
not by any stretch of the imagination, or so he'd always thought. His face was
too thin, his skin too pale and his features were dominated by a large,
prominent nose. He smiled. "I suppose I have nice eyes," he
thought, feeling somewhat embarrassed at this admission. It was obvious that
Hermione saw something in him that not even he could see. He ran a hand through
his lank, black hair.

He really didn't know how he felt about her declaration, although he understood
why she'd chosen that moment to tell him. They'd reachecroscrossroads in their
relationship and she'd firmly staked her claim on him, knowing that it would
throw his world in chaos. "Trust her not to fight fair," he
thought. While he'd always accused her of being a typical Gryffindor, it had
been a completely Slytherin move on her part.

He couldn't help but admire her for it.

Moving away from the mirror, he continued with his thoughts as he made his way
to a room that held the couches and firep. Li. Lighting it with a thought, he
settled in for what promised to be a lonely vigil. He allowed himself to
remember her, the feel of her skin against his, her soft mouth opening to him
as they'd kissed like it was the last time they'd ever be together.

For all he knew, it would indeed be the last time they'd ever be together.

He was suddenly overwhelmed by a feeling of air.air. Nothing he'd ever wanted
had ever come to pass. He'd carefully hidden his heart for so many years, not
allowing himself to want the things that most men wanted . . . a home, children,
and most of all, the love of a beautiful woman. Those things had always been
beyond his reach and for all of his life he'd accepted this meekly, knowing
that to dream of such things would only destroy what little sanity he
possessed. In a few short months, he'd glimpsed the things he'd always wanted,
and had reveled in the idea that they could be his for the taking.

And it was all because of Hermione.

He could love her, he knew, if only things were different. Even now, he knew
that this feeling in his heart was as close to love as he'd ever felt. He just
didn't know what to do about it.

For the first time since his childh he he wept. He wept for all the things he
wanted, but could never have.

To be continued . . .

***********************************************************

Author�s Note: Special thanks to
Elizabeth, my beta-baby. She knows things!

Also, for those who wonder: Bathetic IS a wor. . . . it means "mushy
effusiveness." Severus would never stand for that.

So, what do you all think? Let me know, please! And thanks to all those who have reviewed thus far . . . I feel
like I�m writing this story all over again . . . and it�s just for you!

You guys are the best!
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