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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.
- 17
- 18
- 19
“Do you want to know the real reason why I warned you off the girl?”

They were both sitting on the floor, cataloguing their bruises. Severus felt that he had managed to get the upper hand in their fight, even though he’d have a couple of bruised ribs from Lucius’ fists, as well as one from where he’d been knocked backwards over the chair. Lucius was worse off in his estimation, his breathing was still laboured from where Severus had punched and kicked him more than once, and his lips and one cheek were split and bleeding. Despite the older wizard’s stockier build, he’d not had the experience of brawling on the streets that Severus had had as a child. His punches might have had more weight behind them, but Severus had used both hands and feet, as he had learned long ago, to rain down continuous blows on his opponent so they had less chance to hit him back.

Lucius’ question sent anther surge of hot anger through his body. If his friend wasn’t careful there would be a repeat of the fight before they finished recovering from the first. Severus pinned him with a glare.

“You mean a reason other than her ‘unfortunate blood’?” he spat.

Lucius shifted uncomfortably. “I’ve not held that against her, or any of her fellow muggleborns, for a while, at least not in the way I used to. Not that I’d would go as far as allowing Draco to marry one, of course. The return of the Dark Lord may have taught me how foolish many of my beliefs were. And you wife certainly put paid to my idea that a muggleborn’s magic was inferior to a pureblood’s. But the lack of good manners, or any respect for the old wizarding traditions… always ready to sneer at our ways, while expecting us to automatically accommodate theirs. Those awful garments they wear… you can always tell a muggleborn, even when they’ve lived in our world for many years. They never quite… assimilate.”

“You do know they used to have wizarding culture studies at Hogwarts, many years ago. Like muggle studies, but for the muggleborns to learn the culture they were becoming a part of.” They were getting off topic, but Severus had never heard his friend speak so… generously… about muggleborns, and was curious to see how far his newfound tolerance would go.

“I had no idea. It must have been many years ago.”

“Minerva mentioned it to me once. I have no idea exactly when or why they ended though.” Severus was one of the lucky ones, he knew. He’d been all but raised a muggle, but merely by belonging to Slytherin house, he’d gained the education in wizarding tradition that others lacked. Slytherin house would never let one of their own show them up, and he’d quickly been taken under the prefects’ wings. It was where his friendship with Lucius had first begun.

“If I was still on the board, I would push for them to be reinstated again. As it is… well, I still have some pull with certain governors…” He trailed off, lost in thought.

Well, he’d put the idea in his head, and he’d be interested to see if anything became of it. Severus’ thoughts turned back to his friend’s earlier question. Despite himself, he felt intrigued as to Lucius’ real reason why he’d been against his marriage to Hermione.

“Well, are you going to tell me, then?” he eventually reminded Lucius when it became apparent that the blond had forgotten what he had been about to divulge.

“Hmmm? Oh, yes.” Lucius shifted on the hard wooden floorboards, his expression suddenly uncomfortable. “Forgive me, old friend, for being blunt, but I’ve known you for a long time… The only time I’ve seen you admit to feelings about a woman – well we all know how that turned out. Don’t look at me like that, Severus. You think you managed to hide your feeling about what happened, but you forget I was a prefect when you and the Evans girl arrived at Hogwarts. I watched you tail around after her for years, back when your emotions, as well as your motivations, were much easier to read.

“I’ll never forget that night the Dark Lord announced his intention to kill the Potters. You were low enough in the ranks that I was surprised to even see you at that meeting. Of course, I understood the reason later.”

“Because of the prophecy,” Severus whispered hoarsely, as Lucius’ words took him back to a memory he’d tried his hardest to suppress. “He thought it was only fair that I should hear of his plans when I was the one to give him the information in the first place.”

Lucius could only look on in sympathy. Severus wasn’t the sort that was easily comforted, especially on an issue that had plagued him for so many years.

“You were lucky you hadn’t yet spent much time in the Dark Lord’s presence, and that he didn’t know you well enough to read your face. You’d learnt by then to guard your expression, but not enough for someone who knew you as well as I. I wouldn’t have been surprised if you’d not let Evan’s name cross your lips since the two of you fell out, although I had guessed she was the reason for your sudden drive to join us when you’d been reluctant to commit yourself beforehand.

“By the night the Dark Lord disappeared, it had been a few years since you’d stopped speaking, and I’m sure anyone who still remembered your unusual friendship with a muggleborn Gryffindor believed you well over it by then. But your face that night, when you realised she was marked for death… I knew immediately you still loved her, although you clearly managed to fool anyone else who might have been watching.”

“How could I not, even after she married Potter?” Severus asked softly. “She was the only good thing in my life.”

“And you clearly still believed yourself in love with her, even 20 years after her death,” Lucius continued, unwilling to let Severus wallow in self-pity.

“How are your beliefs about my feelings relevant to my choice or wife? If it hadn’t been her, I would have had to marry someone else. How would that have been any better?”

“If you had taken my advice and married a pureblood witch it would have been completely different. There would have been no feelings involved, and you would both have been free to get on with your lives, take lovers, and avoid all this… unpleasantness, instead of moping around after the girl you already had like some emotionally repressed puppy.”

“I did not mope around after her! And I resent that description. I am nothing like a … a… juvenile dog!” he spat.

“You should have taken Granger as a mistress. There was nothing in that blasted law that would have stopped you having an affair. Those old perverts that write the damn thing made sure of that. I’m sure she would have agreed to it, considering that she’d been desperate to spread her legs for you for years. Your marriages to other people would have prevented you from having to face your true feelings for her.”

“What true feelings? Yes I wanted to fuck her, but it wasn’t like I was in love with her.”

How easily you lie to yourself, a small voice whispered.

“She drove you up the wall precisely because you were in love with her, even if you are still too dense to realise it. You couldn’t deal with it because you’ve been holding onto Evan’s memory tighter than a goblin with its gold. Your obsession may have been what drove you to work to destroy the Dark Lord, but it was past time you let her go.

“And yet, you clearly hadn’t, or you would have given in to your feelings and bedded Granger long before this farce of a law. Anyone who remembered you and Evans together at Hogwarts could have seen that you looked at Granger exactly the same way, like you knew she was too good for you, and that you were desperate for anything you could take. I only wanted to save you from your own self, my friend. It was never going to end happily until you gave up the ghost of Lily Evans.”

(1 month, 3 weeks earlier)

His stomach dropped at the sight of the empty room. Gone were the colourful rugs, the crammed bookcase, the knick-knacks. The lumpy old mattress was bare, except for a faded old blanket he recognised as his. Crossing the room without thinking, his fingers stretched out to run across the bobbled material. The texture was familiar and soothing, and brought back vague memories of being warm and wrapped up tightly in someone’s arms. He let go of it quickly and turned to look round at the room.

It hadn’t occurred to him that she might have already removed all her belongings. The realisation that she clearly didn’t intend to return suddenly hit him, and he sunk down heavily on to the bed with a sigh. A loud snap from beneath him made him start. Checking beneath him absently with one hand he realised that there was something hard tucked under his old blanket. Shifting to one side, he pulled it out.

It was an old wooden frame, the glass cracked, and containing a photo he’d never seen before. It was of the two of them, a moment from their wedding day, captured and replying in a never-ending cycle. Severus could vaguely recall someone taking a few pictures on the day – probably one of her friends, but he’d never seen any of the photos before. He’d never thought to ask.

He couldn’t seem to tear his gaze away, even though what he saw caused his chest to tighten. Her smile was so hopeful, so full of joy, while his was smug and nasty. It took him a few moments to recognise the feeling coursing through him, he hadn’t felt it for so long. It was shame. But it felt different than before. That had been shame at the bruises he had to hide from his muggle primary teachers, from Lily. Shame at his worn, mismatched clothing, even during his later years at Hogwarts, until Lucius had taken him under his wing. Shame when he had been bullied by his housemates, and later, fellow Death Eaters, for being a dirty half-blood – at least until they learned that he was magically stronger and quicker with a nasty hex than most.

But this- this was different. Perhaps it was because it was the first time he had truly been ashamed of his own behaviour, rather than circumstances beyond his control, since Lily had died. But the situation with Hermione – that was no one’s fault but his own. He had chosen to treat her abominably. He had chosen not to give their marriage a real chance, despite having chosen her above all other. He had clung onto the memory of a dead girl like a tatty old comfort blanket, when he had a real chance with someone he loved who loved him back.

Or who had loved him back.

Gently he ran a thumb across her image. Was it too late? What a fool he was, he realised, not to have even realised until now how he felt. When had he fallen in love with her? When had he started to lie to himself that he still loved Lily? The longer he stared at the photo in front of him, the less sure he was. He had long been attached to her – that wasn’t in doubt. Both her appearance and intelligence were what he had always been attracted to, although anyone looking at his affairs with married women, might have thought that blonde and simple would be more his type.

He missed talking to her. Not just the occasional cold discussion – or argument - about what needed to be bought or mended around the house. They used to talk about everything, from the latest magical discoveries to her frustrations at work. Why had they stopped? Well he knew the answer to that. He had effectively shut them down with his cruel words the night they married. He hadn’t even given her one full night before he had slammed the proverbial door in her face and destroyed her dreams of a happy life with him. No wonder that she spoke to him as little as possible. He was foolish enough to ruin his own chances for a happy marriage in one fell swoop, and had only made things worse every time he had purposely done something to upset or irritate her.

He’d chosen to marry her, for Merlin’s sake, chosen her over all the pure-blooded, long-legged busty witches who he’d been happy enough to fuck, but not to let into his life in any meaningful way. He’d chosen her precisely because she was the only one he could ever had imagined spending time with outside the bedroom. He’d enjoyed talking to her. She was the only person, besides Albus and Minerva, who’d ever been able to meet him on an intellectual level. Well, the only one that wasn’t as dusty and dry as the libraries they invariably inhabited.

She was kind and forgiving, or she’d never have forgiven him for the way he’d treated her at school. And she was beautiful. Not the brassy type of beauty that turned heads, but the sort that shone all the more the longer one spent with her.

And he loved her.

How could he not? She was everything Lily had been, and more. She had all of the qualities that had attracted her to Lily, and none of her negative ones. Except the bossiness of course. But then again, he clearly had a thing for the bossy type. Bossy Gryffindors, if he had to be precise. He’d lost the first one, through his own fault, and finally realised that he’d let go of her memory too. But did he perhaps still have a chance with the woman who had finally helped him to stop depending on his love for the first?

She’d already gone, but clearly not straight to the Ministry, or he would have known by now. A warm feeling spread through his chest. Was she still hoping he would come to stop her? Although, considering the way he had treated her it way highly unlikely. It was more probable that she had stopped off somewhere on the way, probably with Potter to receive his condolences over having such a piece of work for a husband. But perhaps if he found her first, he could convince her he could change, that he wanted to be with her.

But how to accomplish such a thing? He had no real experience in how to woo a woman. Both Hermione and the married witches he’d been carrying on with hadn’t needed much effort to be convinced to fall into his bed. They’d all been more than eager – all but one because of his fame, and she for reasons that Severus had never been able to divine.

He needed to prove to her that he loved her. He needed to show her he could be the husband she had wanted. If only he had realised he loved her earlier – even now he wasn’t sure when he had come to feel this way. Perhaps it wouldn’t take much to win her over- a few gifts of flowers and chocolates. All women loved flowers and chocolates. That was unlikely to be enough, though.

Would he actually have to tell her that he loved her? He couldn’t ever recall having said the words before – not even to Lily. The thought of doing so left him feeling… exposed. Perhaps he could get away with not revealing his feelings. Surely his changed actions would be enough – anything must be an improvement over the last few years. She was probably so starved of affection that he wouldn’t need to do much more. Although, some effort in the bedroom would only be beneficial to them both. He would be less selfish in only seeking his own pleasure, and instead, ensure hers as well. Surely if she was being satisfied, that would only lead to a higher frequency of liaisons. He would even let her move back into his room with him. He found he didn’t mind the thought of having her so close at hand.

But if they were to be reconciled, then he would have to go after her, rather than sitting here thinking about it. Every moment that passed was another in which the divorce might be granted. Severus pulled out his pocket watch. It wasn’t actually all that long until the Ministry offices closed – she might be planning on submitting the forms tomorrow. Surely the fact that she hadn’t raced to submit the papers meant he had a chance. Hope swelled within him. Even so, it wasn’t worth leaving it any longer, just in case. He might need the whole evening to persuade her to take him back. There was no time to waste.

He was halfway down the stairs before he’d even realised he still had the broken frame in his hands. No matter, he thought, as he places it carefully on the mantlepiece in the sitting room. Hermione obviously cared enough for it to have it on display. It could stay there if she wished it, where they both could see it. A reminder of the day he had married the woman he loved – even if he was too dense to see it at the time – didn’t bother him in the slightest.

He did, for a minute, consider returning back upstairs to make himself more presentable, but he was eager to find her, and worried about the loss of time. A few quick spells to neaten his clothes were all he had time for. He didn’t even pause to pull on a travelling cloak before wrenching open the front door and stepping outside.

It was as he reached back to pull the door closed behind him that he felt it – a sudden tearing sensation that shredded through him, making him stagger against the door jamb for support. Fighting the nausea as he realised what had happened, he slowly slumped to the front step, reeling in shock.

It was over. She was no longer his wife.

The hope of a few minutes previous had completely vanished with the dissolution of their magical bond. She would never take him back. Not now, he was sure of it. She was free of him. Why would she comeback to a man who had treated her the way he had, when she was worth so much better? Hell, he had no real idea of how to win her back. Flowers and chocolates? What was he thinking? Like that would ever have been enough to make up for what he’d done. Who was he kidding? She may be a better person than Lily, but he wasn’t worth forgiving.

Severus leant his head back against the door frame and closed his eyes. He would leave her to her new life, well away from him and the misery he inflicted on everyone unfortunate enough to know him. Salt water ran down his face and pooled in the hollows at the corners of his mouth.

It had begun to rain.
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To have loved, and lost (was Missed Chances)