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Leaving His Love	By : Lissa Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 4668 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potty does not belong to me. I write for fun. No financial gains are ever made from my writings about the Wider Wizarding World. JKR owns it all.

Chapter List
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AN: This chapter has been almost ready for months and months. When this story is done, it will be a short, six-chapter adventure. Hope you enjoy. ~LissaDream
Chapter Two
BETA LOVE: Snowblind12
Eight Months Later – May 2000
“Blimey Hermione!” Harry whispered in an awed voice. “She’s something…” His voice trailed off as he took in the picture of his exhausted best friend holding a whimpering pink bundle. “You were amazing, love,” he told her gently, leaning over to press a kiss to her forehead.
Harry watched as a tired smile crossed her face. “Thanks Harry,” she whispered as the tiny infant’s whimpers turned into snuffling noises as she rooted at her mother’s breast. “Do you mind if I…?” Hermione left the question open as a Mediwitch approached the bed to give quiet instruction to the new mother.
“Do you want me to leave?” Harry asked her.
“No…no, I don’t.” The words were said quickly, and Harry could read the panic and total fear in her eyes. His stomach dropped. Gods, Hermione was never scared about anything. In the same breath, if he had found himself with their roles reversed, he knew he’d feel the same way.
“Then I’m staying put,” he told simply, pulling a chair to the side of the bed so he could sit next to her. Politely, he averted his eyes as the nurse continued to help mother and baby figure out a nursing latch. He was startled when there was a low hiss from Hermione and looked up to see the Mediwitch giving the young, curly haired woman a sympathetic smile.
“You’ll get it, dearie,” she told Hermione placatingly. “Little bit of practice and it will be as easy as breathing.”
He watched with no small amount of pride as Hermione gave a determined nod of her head, but his stomach flopped again when he watched her eyes trace the face of the wide-eyed infant at her breast. He could see wonder and love in the new mother’s face – there was no doubt of that – but he also saw a deep-seated pain that broke his soul, making his heart ache for her.
“She looks like him.” The words were said quietly and only after the Mediwitch had left the room a few minutes later. “Black hair, black eyes.” There was a hitch in her voice and Harry immediately reached for and took her hand in his, lacing his fingers through hers. “I still miss him, so much.” She sniffed, and Harry helplessly watched as large tears rolled down her cheeks.
“Hermione,” he implored softly, aching as she sniffed and gently ran a finger over the velvety skin of her newborn daughter. “You really should tell him.”
She stiffened instantly. “No. And you took an oath, Harry Potter!”
“Hermione – ”
“No, Harry.” She didn’t shout, that would have actually been better. Her words were numb, resigned. “He didn’t want me. He pretended for over a year that I was the center of his world and I believed him with every fiber of my being. I gave him every part of me, and he did his best to break me. He is as cruel as you and Ron always thought he was – I won’t let him do that to her.”
There was a moment of silence before Harry asked, “What’s her name, Mia?”
A soft smile crossed Hermione’s face. “Kyrie. Kyrie Jean Granger.”
Three Years Later – May 2003
“Mummy?” Three-year-old Kyrie pulled on the skirt of her mother’s robes. “Mummy, do you haffa go do scoo today?”
Hermione paused in her frantic nappy sack packing, it was woefully understocked. She turned to the child and cocked her head questioningly. “I do, Kiki. Why do you ask?”
“Kiki wanna ‘nuggle. Kiki misses Mummy.” Hermione’s heart dropped, and she quickly kneeled to the girl’s level to pull the child into her arms in a comforting hug. This was when she realized her daughter was burning up. “Oh, baby girl,” she murmured, immediately sliding her palms up the child’s back, under her pajama top. “Oh, sweetie. You’re not feeling good, are you?”
Kyrie was unable to answer, however. With absolutely no warning, she opened her mouth and proceeded to projectile vomit down Hermione’s front, effectively covering both of them in obvious remains from the previous night’s supper and warm, curdled milk from her morning sip cup. Hermione let out a startled squeak of surprise as Kyrie started sobbing hysterically.
“Shh love, shh,” Hermione hushed in a soothing voice tinged with a bit of panic. She had a huge exam today. One she could not miss. If she didn’t pass the exam, she wouldn’t pass the class. If she didn’t pass the class, she would have to retake it next term. This would put her a semester behind, and she was due to start field practice next term. She swallowed the growing lump in her throat as she dug for her wand and vanished the sick before carrying Kyrie to the floo.
She knew the little girl was going to be so upset when she left, but she didn’t have a choice. When this semester ended, she’d only have four terms of field practice and then she was done – a Healer, just as she wanted. She’d be able to get her own little house instead of the tiny, one-room flat they lived in. Kyrie would have a garden to play in. They could get a cat! All the things Hermione wanted to provide for her daughter.
“Hi Mum,” Hermione murmured.
Monica Granger let out a startled squeal as her daughter’s head appeared in her fireplace. “Would you be able to come here today? I know you don’t really like the floo, but Kiki just threw up and she has a fever and I think you’d both be more comfortable here where she has all her things.”
“I’ll be right through, dear,” Monica answered without hesitation.
When her mum arrived a few minutes later, Hermione had Kyrie in a cool bath after having administered a fever potion. “She’s sleepy and says her tummy still hurts. I switched her to some vitamin water to drink.” Hermione spoke quickly while she rinsed Kyrie’s black, silky curls. “Some dry toast later, if she asks for food.”
“Absolutely honey,” Monica answered with a sympathetic smile, “I’ve got this. I have taken care of sick babies before.” She gave a little wink. Hermione froze in the act of wrapping her child in a fluffy, yellow towel and her face crumpled, a hot tear streaking down her cheek. “Oh Hermione,” Monica reached out to smooth a fuzzy curl off her grown daughter’s forehead. “It will get better, four years down – two to go. You’ve got this.”
Kyrie was laying limply in her arms, her eyes closed as Hermione tenderly traced her spine over the terry cloth towel. She gave her mum a tremulous smile. “I know you’re right, it’s just extra hard on days like this.”
“I know, baby.”
“I’ve got to go, though,” she sighed and made to hand Kyrie to her grandmother.
“No Mummy!” Kyrie was instantly alert and wrapped herself tightly around Hermione. Hermione hugged her back snugly for a moment while making hurried promises in her tiny ear. “It’s okay, baby girl. Mummy’s going to come home early, but I have to go for a bit, Kiki. Gramma’s going to take super good care of you.”
“No Mummy!” The toddler started crying in earnest and Hermione squeezed her for another minute before she had to forcibly remove the child from her arms. She thanked her Mother again, trying not to react to her sick baby’s tears, and grabbed floo powder so she could get to University on time for her exam. The last thing she saw was her daughter screaming and reaching for her as she disappeared.
Two Years Later – June 2005
“To resident Healer Hermione Granger! Congratulations on your job at Mungo’s!” Ron toasted, raising his cup of ale into the air.
“To Mummy!” Kyrie used both hands to raise her water cup and was obviously delighted as many of the adults around the table chuckled as they added their toast to the mix.
Hermione beamed around the long picnic tables, shouting her thanks above exclamations of congratulations and well wishes. The Weasleys and the multitude of Weasley wives and grandchildren that had been added to the family over the last six years were there; Harry and Ginny, Ron and Lavender, Bill and Fleur, Percy and Penelope, George and Angelina, and Charlie with his girlfriend from Romania all grinned back at her along with her parents. Even Hagrid and Professor McGonagall were there. Her family. She wouldn’t have been able to do it without them. She wouldn’t have even made it through a month after her relationship with Severus had ended if it hadn’t been for Ron and Harry. She owed the people surrounding her so much for everything they had given her so selflessly over the last six years.
She only had to meet each gaze to know that they knew exactly how grateful she was.
Four Years Later – May 2009
“Happy birthday dear Kiki! Happy birthday to you!” Kyrie grinned at the small gathering of family around the kitchen table in their small cottage home. She was so excited to be turning nine today! She was a big girl, now. She watched Uncle Harry and Auntie Ginny with their arms around each other while her cousins, James and Al, grinned at her – they were obviously excited for cake.
Then her mum stood, all by herself, smiling and singing with shining eyes. Kyrie’s gaze slid past her mum to Uncle Ron and Auntie Lavender and their two kids, Hugo and Rose. She didn’t realize the smile slipped from her lips as she trained her gaze back on her mum, taking in again how she stood alone. Realizing, not for the first time, that her mummy didn’t have a husband and that she didn’t have any siblings.
Auntie Ginny was pregnant again. Auntie Lavender had been whinging to Uncle Ron during dinner that she wanted another baby. She closed her eyes and impolitely made her wish loud and clear for everyone to hear. “I wish my mummy would find my daddy and have another baby,” she said before blowing out the candles.
When she opened her eyes, the smug grin she’d had in place melted at the look of shock on her mother’s face while the other four adults in the room were silent with worried expressions. Aunt Ginny took charge. “Let’s get this cake cut, yeah?”
Kyrie watched as her mum seemed to shake off her surprise and agreed with her aunt. Kyrie’s desperate declaration was put aside as the cake was cut and passed out and presents were opened. The new nine-year-old all but forgot her wish in the excitement of her birthday. It wasn’t until later, when her mum was tucking her into bed, that she was reminded.
“Kiki, love,” Hermione started hesitantly. “You know mummy can’t have another baby with your father, right?”
Kyrie cocked her head to the side. “Why not?”
“Because… because your father isn’t a part of our lives, Kyrie,” she said softly.
“Why not?” the little girl repeated stubbornly before her expression darkened. “It’s not fair. Al and James have a mummy and a daddy; Rose and Hugo have a mummy and a daddy. So why not me? Where’s my daddy? Why can’t I have a brother or sister? It’s not fair!”
Hermione was quiet for a long, long time. So long that Kyrie almost fell asleep to the soothing motions of her mother’s hands in her silky curls. “Your father is a good man, Kyrie. A brave man. Remember I told you how he fought in the war? Was a spy? Risked his life?”
“Yes, mummy,” Kyrie whispered in reply.
“I loved your father very much,” her mother told her. “He couldn’t accept my love, though. He didn’t love me back the same. We went our separate ways before I realized you were growing in my tummy.”
There was another stretch of silence before Kyrie whispered. “He didn’t come back when you told him about me? He didn’t want me?”
Hermione’s hands stilled in Kyrie’s hair and the girl tipped her head back to look at her mother. “No, Kiki,” she answered in a suspiciously raspy voice. “That’s not it, honey.” Her fingers smoothed ringlets out of Kyrie’s eyes. “I never told him about you, love.”

Kyrie sat up, hurt and confusion marring her delicate features. “What? Why not?!”
Hermione’s hands fluttered as if she didn’t know what to do with them now that they were paining comforting patterns in her daughter’s hair. “The way… the way things ended with your father and I were not good. I couldn’t… I couldn’t face him. I always meant to tell him eventually, but then too much time passed…”
Kyrie watched her mother’s face carefully, and instantly felt terrible when a lone tear trickled down one cheek. “It’s okay, mum. Don’t cry!” she exclaimed, launching herself into Hermione’s arms.
Her mother held her tightly and pressed kisses to the top of her head. “I love you Kyrie. When you’re older, I’ll tell you everything. I promise. For now, though…it’s just you and me, love. I’ve got you, you’ve got me. We’ll be fine together. Alright?”
“Alright, mum,” Kyrie was feeling sleepy. “I love you.”
“I love you, too, darling.”
Two Years Later – September 2011
“Remember what we talk about with Professor Snape?” Hermione asked Kyrie quietly.
“That he doesn’t know he’s my dad, but Professor McGonagall knows you’re coming tonight to talk to him,” Kyrie answered promptly. “I know, mum. We’ve talked about this a million times over the last few weeks. I know he never knew about me, I know you’re worried about how he’s going to react. But it’s okay, I’m going to be fine. If he doesn’t want to be my dad, then I’ve got Uncle Harry and Uncle Ron – they’ve always been there for me. I don’t need Professor Snape.”
Hermione had to bite the insides of her lips for a moment to keep from bursting into tears. Her brave daughter was putting up quite the front, but Hermione saw through her blasé words. She knew the girl was acutely terrified that she was going to see her father for the first time that night. She also knew that Kyrie wanted nothing more in the world then for Severus Snape to love her. “I love you, Kiki,” she murmured, dropping a kiss to the top of her daughter’s ebony curls.
“Love you too, mum,” she answered, her voice trembling a bit. She flung herself into Hermione’s arms and squeezed tightly.
“You’re gonna be great, Keek!” Ron gave her a little tickle behind one ear while Harry squatted down a bit to look her in the eye.
“Write often, kiddo,” he told his niece. “We love you!”
“Love you too,” she told both Ron and Harry as they sandwiched her in a hug.
The trio watched the first child born between the three of them board the scarlet train with forced smiles that didn’t quite reach their eyes.
“Gryffindor?” Ron asked.
“Ravenclaw,” Harry guessed quickly.
“Slytherin,” Hermione stated flatly. “That girl is Slytherin. Through and through.”
“Kyrie Granger!” Pomona Sprout called. Severus Snape was so badly startled at the sound of the surname he had just heard, he uncharacteristically tipped his goblet over causing many sets of eyes to land on him.
He didn’t notice a single pair of them, however. He absent-mindedly pointed his wand at the puddle of pumpkin juice as his gaze scanned the faces of the first years in fascination, looking for the child. He hadn’t heard the name Granger in quite a few years. His ability to follow anything to do with Hermione Granger had ended forever ago as she had dropped out of the papers almost completely, shortly after he so brutally ended their relationship.
He’d had no idea she had a child, let alone a child of Hogwarts age. Potter’s first brat wouldn’t be starting until the following year. Had she married – ? No. If she had the child wouldn’t be Granger, now, would she? It was odd for him to not have heard through the forever-grinding Hogwarts rumor mill that she had a child. He’d heard about every single birth of Ginny Potter and Lavender Weasley – why not the child of Hermione Granger?
He wracked his brain; their affair had ended… How long ago now? Thirteen…no, twelve… Suddenly, his eyes locked on the emerging child in question before they widened in horror. Almost twelve years ago…
He felt a sickening wave of ice-cold wash over him as he watched Kyrie Granger step confidently forward from the gaggle of new comers. The first thing that came to Severus’ mind was that the girl was the spitting image of her mother. He might have laughed as he remembered Hermione Granger looking almost the same at her own Sorting – her chin thrust out and her slightly upturned nose in the air, but the sick feeling of dread that roiled through his stomach prevented any mirth. His heartrate sped alarmingly as he took in the only two differences he could see that separated her from her mother – silky, jet black curls and ebony colored eyes.
Merlin.
Those were his eyes.
The guilt for what he had done all those many years ago – the guilt that never went away, that always stayed in the darkest caverns of his heart and mind – rose so alarmingly he felt dizzy with it.
What have you done?
It was a question he had asked himself so many times over the long, lonely years. This time, however, it was backed with such fierceness that he felt himself start to lose his breath. His eyes darted down the line of his co-workers and he was startled to see Headmistresses Minerva McGonagall watching him with sharp, accusing eyes.

Her glare confirmed his fear and his eyes swiveled back to the petite little girl and he was frozen with such a profound shock he was sure he looked like a marble statue. The girl bounced onto the three-legged stool and looked from the audience of students, to Professor Sprout, to the staff table. The Sorting Hat was placed onto her head. He felt her obsidian eyes run over his face and catch his stare for a split second before the hat slipped past her forehead and landed on her button nose. Those eyes unfroze him, causing a sharp tremor to roll through his body.
Those were his eyes.
“SLYTHERIN!” the hat shouted.
That was his daughter.
Severus was still reeling from the shock of seeing the girl who he knew in his gut must be his daughter but was at a complete loss as how to react to it. Did he contact Hermione? Did he talk to the girl personally? Did she know that he was her father? Was he really her father? The knock on the door to his quarters startled him. It was late; almost ten o’clock.
“Who the hell?” he muttered as he set his third glass of fire whiskey down on the end table and pushed himself to stand. He wasn’t sure what to expect, however, pulling the door open to find Hermione Granger standing there nervously ringing her hands was not it. A loud whoosh of air left him as he took a startled step back. He felt as though he had just walked through a ghost. He stared stupidly at her for a full minute before she broke the silence.
“Hello Severus,” her voice was shaking, “might I come in?”
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Leaving His Love