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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.
- 18
- 19
- 20
There was silence after Lucius' statement, and it was touch and go for a few moments whether or not Severus was about to deck his friend again.
The re-entry of Minerva into the room neatly cut the tension in two, and both men visibly slumped in relief as she set the tray she was carrying on the table. Her cheerful summons to partake of refreshments brooked no refusal. As the scent of bacon and eggs wafted over him, Severus felt his stomach twist in hunger. He'd barely eaten anything for weeks, only enough to stop his body complaining. The alcoholic stupor he'd been in had curbed his hunger most of the time, and when he'd been forced to eat, he'd scoffed whatever was in the fridge or cupboards that didn't need cooking.
He was the first to move, finding a variety of food besides what he could smell arrayed on the trays. Minerva poured the tea, passing the first cup and saucer to Lucius, who had approached more reluctantly, eggs and bacon clearly not to his more 'refined' tastes. The plates of French pastries, however, clearly were more appealing, and he managed to slip one onto a plate once Severus had finished piling all the greasy food he could manage onto his own.
It wasn't quite what you'd call a Full English – the lack of fried mushrooms and black pudding were disappointing, but he was sure he could manage. There was no better cure for a hangover, in his opinion.
It only took one bite for his to realise the food had been cooked at Hogwarts and delivered by house elf. After all the years he'd lived there, Severus would never be able to forget the taste of the cooked breakfasts, most especially the sausages, which were handmade by the elves, and one of the few things he genuinely missed about living in the castle.
The stray thought that the food in his fridge has lasted a suspiciously long time without going off crossed his mind as he crammed a particularly large mouthful in, and he narrowed his eyes in suspicion at the interfering old witch sitting on the sofa, casually chatting with Lucius. It would be just like her to do such a thing. And in any case, when had the two of them become such good friends – as unlikely as convincing Hermione to part with that battered copy of Hogwarts, a History that she'd lugged around since her first year. Perhaps once his mouth wasn't so full he would get to the bottom of just what was going on.
It took the same amount of time for him to wolf down his whole plate as it took Lucius to elegantly eat two of the pastries. By the time he had finished, Severus felt better than he had done in ages – both fed and clean, and without the foul smells that had taken over his house from the many bottles and dirty plates festering in every corner.
In his haste to eat, he'd ignored the conversation between the other two, but as he snaffled another egg and couple of rashers, he found he could now concentrate on what they were discussing.
"… being widely touted as a future Minister for Magic, after such a success bending the Wizengamot to her will, despite most of them being so strongly for the law to begin with. With her at the head, who knows what could be achieved."
Severus didn't need to ask who they were talking about, and, desperate for news of her, he finished his meal silently, hoping to hear more.
"I can't imagine that was ever her intention, but it's not as if she doesn't deserve it," Minerva replied. "She would turn things in their heads, rather. I imagine there are a few of the… old boys… who wouldn't be happy to see her elected." Her eyes rested on Lucius as if questioning his own membership in that group.
"If you're asking me whether I mind the election of the first female muggleborn to the job, I don't. Despite what you might think, Minerva, considering… all evidence to the contrary, I think she would make a formidable Minister.
Severus' eyes narrowed. He had always been able to tell when his friend was lying. Either Lucius had been practising, or he genuinely meant what he said.
Clearly Minerva wasn't quite convinced either, by the look that she gave him over her half-moon spectacles.
"In any case," she continued after a moment, she's not quite ready for the job, by her own admission. She's still determined to deal with the matter of parental rights over the children that have been separated from their poor mothers when she got this ridiculous law overturned. Even worse are the witches who don't dare divorce the husbands forced on them for fear of never seeing their bairns again."
"She's not…?" Lucius began.
"You've spoken to her? To Hermione?" Severus interjected with no care for his friend's reply.
The two of them looked surprised to be reminded of his presence in the room. Minerva looked back at Lucius, almost conspiratorially, although he didn't seem to notice as he replied.
"I've not had the… pleasure of speaking to M… Hermione since before… since the night you both attended the ball at the manor. I have, however, seen her in passing a few times – at the Ministry of course," Lucius replied, stumbling at first he tried to spare Severus's feelings.
Severus paid him no heed, keeping his gaze on the person to whom he'd addressed the question. With another quick glance at Lucius – clearly there was something going on there – Minerva finally replied.
"I've spoken to her, several time in fact, in the last few weeks."
Severus opened his mouth to demand why Minerva hadn't already told him this, before he thought better of it.
Dropping his head, he whispered, "Is… how is she? Is she…?" He couldn't finish the sentence, unsure whether he had any right to even ask after her.
When Minerva didn't immediately reply, he sank further down into his chair in misery. When she finally spoke, Severus looked up in surprise, noting her pinched expression – the easy tone of her last few minutes' conversation with Lucius now gone.
"She's been busy, Severus. She found out about the women who had to leave their children behind after their divorces. She was devastated with she realised she'd not realised that wizards have all rights to their offspring over witches, unless they can be proven to be incompetent at caring for them I understand it's generally the other way round for Muggles, so she was hardly to have known."
Severus felt his heart sink at her words. Of course, she was on to bigger and better things than him. She probably hadn't given him a second thought since the divorce had been finalised.
"As I'm sure you just heard," Minerva continued, unaware of the emotions that were flooding through him, "she's been tipped to be the next Minister, although I'm not sure she'll give in to the pressure to run until she's ready to on her own terms. She's got more freedom to fight the battles that she wants to where she is at the moment, without being bogged down with the daily running of the Wizengamot."
Severus felt himself drawing in on himself with every word, and turned away.
"What's the matter?" Minerva's hand was warm on his shoulder, and to his horror he realised that tears were beginning to escape from his eyes.
Mortified, he shrugged her off, forcing his embarrassment and misery to anger, as he had done so often before to protect himself. "Was that the point of you coming here then, to throw into my face how well she is doing now she is shot of me?"
"That was not…" Minerva tried to answer, but Severus had all too easily worked himself up into a fury.
"All of this…" He gestured to the newly cleaned room, the remains of his breakfast, and the two of them, sitting there, stunned at his outburst. "as a sop before you tell me she's so much happier without me." He pushed himself to his feet, looming over Lucius. "And just what exactly did you aim to achieve earlier? Was there a reason you decided to beat the shit out of me and force me to admit that I actually love my wife, or do you just fucking enjoy kicking me when I'm down?"
Lucius rose from the sofa, his haughty expression in the face of Severus' outburst leaving him with the overwhelming urge to punch his friend once more.
Severus gave him no chance to reply. 'Oh buck up, Severus, she's moved on, and it's time for you to pull your head out of your arse and get on with your life.'" He mimicked Lucius aristocratic tone for a moment. "Well, you can both fuck off, the both of you! Go on, get out, and take your happy news with you! What in Merlin's name made you think you could make me feel better? Not I want or fucking need cheering up in any case. I'm perfectly happy being miserable, and I don't need you two to tell me fucking otherwise! I was miserable long before she came along, and I'll be fucking miserable long after she's gone!"
He paused for breath. "I thought I told you to get out," he growled when he realised the two of them hadn't moved an inch towards the door, instead moving to stand shoulder to shoulder in front of him. If Severus had been less incensed he would have noticed how the two made a formidable pairing, more than any sane witch or wizard would think about taking on.
Severus went for his wand, intending to force them out of his house, but found himself suddenly unable to move. It took him a few moments to realise that Lucius had sneakily palmed his own wand and stunned him.
1 month, 3 weeks earlier.
It hadn't taken him long to drag himself back into the house in search of the nearest bottle, with the intention of getting absolutely hammered. Hopefully he'd be able to get so pissing drunk all thoughts of the enormous cock up he'd made of his life would be erased, while the bottle lasted at least. Or bottles…
Opening the drinks cupboard, Severus grabbed the first bottle and pulled off the lid. He took a couple of large gulps, enjoying the way the amber liquid burned its way down his throat, before surveying the rest of the stash. Perhaps a good 20 bottles, although a number of them were drinks neither he or Hermione enjoyed, but which had been received as presents, cheap white wine making up the most part.
They both drank red, although he preferred something stronger, not that he drank much. While he could probably brew most of his orders half drunk or hungover, he wouldn't risk his potions business – or his house for that matter. And some of his brews were so specialised and delicate that even the fumes from alcohol could ruin them. That was to say nothing of the nasty temper he had while drunk. He would never have subjected her to that. He was not his father.
But she was no longer there, so what did it matter anymore?
There wasn't enough in the cupboard, not for what he had planned. Not to get blind drunk for so many days in a row he hopefully forgot who he was, and completely destroyed his liver and kidney functions to boot. He had more downstairs of course – his own potent illicit concoction. Why he kept brewing the stuff, he wasn't sure, now that Albus wasn't around to drink it like pumpkin juice. Severus mentally tallied up the number of demijohns he had, before grabbing his wand and the wallet from besides the front door. Bottle still in hand, he made his way down to the shabby off-licence at the end of the next road along, swigging from it as he went.
The sour-looking man inside the shops made to protest when he barged in and started grabbing bottles of spirits off the shelves. Maybe it was the open bottle that Severus was almost halfway through, or perhaps muggles had a limit on the number of bottles that could be sold in one go. Severus didn't know, nor did he care. The protests subsided after a quick Confundo, and the man soon started tallying up the price, all the while shaking his head as if he wasn't quite sure what he was doing.
Severus paid quickly with the muggle money from the wallet that was always kept by the front door with plenty in it – they did live in a muggle neighbourhood after all. He reduced the bottles without thinking and transferred them to his pockets. A quick Obliviate later and Severus was gone, leaving the man staring vacantly at the door he'd disappeared through.
His bottle was more than half gone, and he was starting to feel queasy due to the fact he'd had no food since the day before, as well as half pissed already. He just managed to stumble back into his house when his gag reflex gave up on him, and he spewed up just inside the living room. Wiping his mouth with his sleeve, he pulled out his wand to scourgify the mess, and in a sudden surge of anger, blasted the chair in front of him - her chair – for good measure.
Watching it burst apart wasn't as satisfying as he had hoped. The shattered pieces of wood and strips of fabric seemed to be too pointed an analogy for his own life right now. He took a large gulp of the bottle still in his other hand to wash away the taste of vomit. He thought for a moment about vanishing the remains of her chair, but something made him think again, and eventually he flicked his wand at it once more. The pieces few back together, taking a few moments to places themselves back in the correct places and knit themselves into one.
Something about it didn't look quite right, but that was to be expected, after the mess he'd made of it. He didn't suppose anything about his life would ever be the same again either, now that he knew exactly what he had lost. Again.
- 18
- 19
- 20
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To have loved, and lost (was Missed Chances)