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To have loved, and lost (was Missed Chances)	By : professorflo Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 10775 -:- 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.
- 13
- 14
- 15
Severus' voice, weary and raw with pouring out all the emotion he'd suppressed for so long, finally petered out and fell silent.
It took Minerva a few moments to find her voice, no doubt stunned by his sordid tale of manipulation and mistreatment.
"Well, you've certainly managed to cock it up completely, haven't you? I had no idea, I don't think anyone did. We all thought you were happy together. I certainly knew you'd had a thing for each other for a long time, so it only made sense when the two of you got together when that ridiculous law came out."
Severus looked up sharply. "What do you mean?"
"Oh come on, Severus. When, in all your years teaching have you even taken the time to meet with an ex-student? And especially one who annoyed you so much when she was at school.
"...Don't tell me it was because she was the only one who could hold a decent conversation," she added when she saw him about to argue. "There have been plenty of bright students come through Hogwarts in the last 20 years, although I will admit there have been none that could quite match her."
He didn't need Minerva to tell him that. "Match her? There's not a single dunderhead I had the displeasure of teaching that could come anyway near," he griped.
"Of course, her feelings were obvious to anyone who took the time to look. Not that those boys had any idea - they were quite shocked when the two of you announced your intention to marry. I've never seen her so happy though, and she wasn't the only one with an improved disposition. There was something quite different about you too."
"Yes, I'd managed to piss off Potter and his pet Weasley by stealing their friend for myself," he agreed, "not to mention surprising half of wizarding Britain by securing such a beautiful young witch to be my wife. I'm sure most of the imbeciles I've taught expected to see me end up with some hag older and uglier than myself. But I felt like I deserved something better, and there she was, offering herself up to me on a plate. What else would a hot-blooded wizard do? Let her down gently and go searching for a crone who would have me?
His voice grew softer. "Merlin knows what she even saw in me in any case… and all I've done is prove exactly why I never deserved her." He dropped his head, unwilling to let the old witch see the misery on his face.
"I can understand you feeling like you were owed something after everything you went through, but I don't believe that was the only reason you married her. You clearly felt something for her at the time, even if you can't admit it."
"What does it matter? She's gone now. And it's no more than I deserve in any case," he snapped. "The fact that I care for her makes everything I did to her a thousand times worse. What kind of man treats the woman he loves that way? I may be as big a bully as my own father ever was, but at least he never professed to loving my mother. He had the excuse of being trapped into a marriage with a child he didn't want, and a wife that turned out to be a witch! What excuse do I have for treating her the way I did?"
He was faintly aware of his magical aura starting to crackle again. He'd never had such lapses of control, even when he was a young child. It was proof of how badly she had affected him. He could feel his control starting to slip once more.
In an instant, Minerva whipped her wand back out and stunned him, halting his magical outburst before it could break. Casting another spell in quick succession, she stopped his fall, lowering him gently to the ground.
"Oh Severus, my boy," she whispered gently to his motionless form as she checked to see whether he was still conscious or not, "what are we going to do with you?"
Realising her stunner had knocked him out, Minerva raised her wand to cast again. The message she gave to the three silver cats that prowled round the room were clear and succinct, and it wasn't until she had sent them on their way that she wondered whether she had done the right thing.
2 months earlier
He was toiling in his potions garden, tearing out the small weeds that had started to grow as if they had personally offended him. The area wasn't particularly large, but it helped to being down the cost of his overheads, and afforded him a good reason to spend time out of his lab.
The prickling on the back on his neck told him he was being watched, even though he hadn't heard anyone enter the garden, and the tall fence, embedded with privacy charms and a few nasty hexes, kept all other eyes out. He'd certainly have felt if anyone had tried to dismantle them. That left only one option, yet she'd only acknowledged his existence once in the week since the ball, and even that occasion had been as forced as it usually was, once a week.
Not since they'd shared terse goodbyes with their hosts had he heard the sound of her voice. Not that she seemed to be furious with him, although deep down he knew she had every right to be, ever since he had slipped back into the ballroom less than a minute behind the slightly dishevelled hussy that had been so eager to throw herself at him. His own appearance had been no less orderly than usual, and no one had seemed to connect his return with that of the blonde witch. No one except his wife.
He'd spent the rest of that evening relishing in the hurt he'd caused her, feeling that she'd deserved it for going behind his back to rid herself of him. He knew she had seen the two of them return to the ballroom, just as she'd seen them leave, and he had no doubt she'd been counting the minutes in between, growing more agitated as the time passed., she'd never been very good at concealing her emotions especially when upset. It had only taken two days for the elation to wear off, but as the night of their required coupling approached trepidation had begun to build. Would this be the last time? How long would it be until she walked out of his life?
He told himself that he didn't care, that he could get any woman he pleased, just as he had before the law had been passed. For now, however, he was stuck with her, in some strange form of purgatory, unable to either enjoy her as he had once hoped to all that time ago, knowing that before long she would be gone, but in the dark as to when he would be free.
It was his own fault, he could admit that, if nothing else. He should have been able to lie to her about his feelings, making her believe he cared for her, then at least he would have had her slender, supple body for his pleasure. Her company had always been good enough before they married – why couldn't he have just sweetened the relationship with a bit of sex? The problem was, that with women, it was never just sex. That was one of the reasons why his flings never lasted long – they always got too attached.
And now, to make things even worse with her, he'd been so callous at the ball, disappearing with that woman and rubbing her face in the knowledge that he didn't love her. He deserved her anger, but strangely she hadn't shown any, instead ignoring his presence as if he wasn't there at all. She'd barely looked at him since. The lack of expression in her eyes unnerved him, as did the way she seemed to look through him as if he wasn't there.
She hadn't even spoken to him when she'd come to his bed. The faintest scent of firewhisky had tickled his nose as she slipped silently between him sheets, although he'd been sure she hadn't had more than a glass or two, just enough to bolster her courage.
She'd clung to him, almost desperately, as he'd moved between her legs, her nails digging into his back, but not a sound had she made the entire time. He'd been so desperate to have her that night, to prove that she was, at least for the moment, still his. He'd not lasted long, and he could tell by the way she still trembled as he removed himself from between her legs that once again he'd not driven her to her own orgasm.
He would have been ashamed of himself over the lack of pleasure he'd given her over the last couple of years, but he was too angry with her to care. He was still furious that she had worked so hard to leave him, when she'd vowed to be his forever. How could she, if she'd truly loved him as she had professed to when they had married? But in a few weeks, she would be abandoning him, just like everyone else.
…just like Lily.
His chest had swollen with anger at the petite witch lying beside him. What was she still even doing in his bed? Normally she would have fled as soon as she could get out from underneath him. He'd flicked his fingers, silently lighting the candle beside the bed, leaving the room just bright enough to be able to see her, looking up at him with liquid golden eyes. It was the alcohol, he'd decided, that was the reason for her continued presence. She'd clearly had more than he'd believer. What the hell did she want from him? What gave her the right to torment him further by staying longer than usual?
Slowly he'd leant forward, until their noses were almost touching.
"Get… out…!" he'd growled fiercely.
She'd blinked at him stupidly for a moment before his words had seemed to hit her, and throwing back the covers, she'd bolted from the room, leaving him alone.
Just how he liked it, he'd told himself.
As he continued to pull the weeds out from amongst the dittany and Lady's Mantle the awareness that he was not alone grew. Slowly he edged around the bed, still tearing out unwanted shoots and snipping off dead heads, until he was able to look up for a quick glimpse of the kitchen window. It was dark. Severus frowned. He'd been so sure he was being watched, but then again it had been a few years since he'd relied on his intuition and instinct to keep him alive. Perhaps he was a little rusty, not that he missed living like that, never sure if the next moment would be the one where his duplicity would be discovered.
Still, he had been so sure that he was being watched, the sensation almost tangible. He lowered his head, returning his attention back to the plants in front of him. A gut feeling told him to look back up, which he did without raising his head once more.
There… the slightest shadow moved behind the dark glass. It could only be her. The purpose of her clandestine surveillance of him, he couldn't discern. At least it made a chance from her acting as if he didn't exist, turning a blind eye to his presence in a room, stepping around him as if he was a piece of furniture, even preparing food only for herself and eating it in front of him, acting like she were completely alone.
Curious as to why she had suddenly stopped ignoring him so completely, but unwilling to show his interest, Severus worked for another few minutes before he was satisfied the beds were free of weeds. Quickly scraping his tools off – he didn't want any residual magic contaminating the soil or his ingredients – he packed them away into the small shed in the corner of the garden. He stopped to pick the handful of cuttings he'd taken for brewing or drying later that day, before making his way inside. The kitchen was empty. He wasn't surprised. No doubt she had retreated to her room as soon as she realised he was on his way in.
It wasn't until he'd rinsed his hands and turned round to dry them that he spotted the newspaper, left abandoned on the kitchen table. Severus never normally read the Prophet, as it was usually little more than a salacious source of gossip, most of which were untrue, but because of her work, Hermione had always insisted on keeping up a subscription to keep up to date with anything that might be going on. She rarely left it out where he could see it though, and so the incongruity of the crumpled paper in an otherwise spotless kitchen drew his eye.
Severus scanned the page it had been left open at. The article was a continuation of the story from the front page, and as he skimmed through it his chest began to tighten. Despite not actually wanting to know what the headline said, with a sense of dread he flipped the pages back.
There they were, the words he'd been fearing since the night of the ball:
Wizengamot to Vote on Marriage Law: The Decree's growing unpopularity finally forces the Minister to act.
So, it had finally found its way to the media. Severus could only be surprised that it had been kept under wraps for so long, considering how well known it was amongst the purebloods of Lucius's association, but then again, in many ways they still kept themselves separate from the general populace, and certainly never courted the press unless it was to their own advantage.
Severus slumped into a seat as he unwillingly continued to read the article. There was no mention of his wife anywhere, which made sense considering that she had been working behind the scenes and probably didn't want her involvement known. That wasn't what he was looking for, however. What he was looking for was the date on which the Wizengamot would give permission for his wife to desert him. It didn't take long to find it.
Four days…! Four days before she would be out of his life. There was no way that the Wizengamot wouldn't dissolve the law, or the Malfoy's ball wouldn't have been full of so many smug idiots eagerly anticipating relieving themselves of supposedly inferior and unwanted spouses. Four days wasn't even long enough for her to be forced to fuck him again. He'd had his last time with her, and he hadn't known there wouldn't be another chance.
Another chance for what, his conscience mocked him, another chance to make her hate you even more when you show her you care nothing for her?
"And what should I care if she does hate me?" he thought. I never wanted her in the first place, at least not for more than a shag, and I've had that and plenty more, not that it's brought me any satisfaction.
No doubt there would be a plethora of willing witches ready to celebrate their divorces. They would find him ready and able to oblige, although of course there would be no commitment to more than a few pleasure-filled nights with even the most enticing witch. None of them would hold his interest longer than that, they didn't have the intelligence to appeal to him beyond the bedroom.
He couldn't wait to get his old life back, to reclaim his house and his personal space. He'd never brought a witch to his home before her, always going to a hotel if, for some reason, her own home was out of the question for their liaison. That's how it would be again. No commitments, no worries, and most importantly, no wife to provoke and tease him with her very presence.
- 13
- 14
- 15
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To have loved, and lost (was Missed Chances)