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Broken Dreams	By : onecelestialbeing Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 34540 -:- Recommendations : 4 -:- Currently Reading : 13
Disclaimer: I make no money from this story, own nothing of Harry Potter, haven't met any of the people (except Alan Rickman and sadly that was brief)

Chapter List
- 19
- 20
- 21
By the time Hermione and Ginny had a few slices of the leftover chocolate cake along with two cups of tea each, Ginny was marginally calmer.

"Thanks, Hermione," Ginny told her for the umpteenth time as she drained the remains of her mug. "Honestly, thank you. If I'd stayed a single minute longer in my house, I would have turned my brother into a ferret."

Hermione began giggling, remembering the day that Moody turned Draco into a bouncing ferret back at school. "Don't let your boyfriend hear you mention the word ferret," she chortled.

Smiling wryly, Ginny shook her head. "It's a shame I wasn't around to see that," she laughed. "Although, I guess if Draco gets on my nerves one day, I can always threaten him with that spell."

"Ginny, you wouldn't!" Hermione cried, hoping that her friend was only joking.

"Oh, Hermione, you need to lighten up a little," Ginny scoffed. "I wouldn't actually do that to Draco, or Ron for that matter, even if he's working my last nerve. Speaking of Draco, I wonder what he's doing right now."

"Why don't you get Button and send him a message?" Hermione suggested. "After all of this chaos, I'm sure he'd want to hear from you."

"Yeah, I will in a minute," Ginny murmured distractedly. "Hermione, what am I going to do? The only reason I didn't say anything about Draco in the first place was because, well, in hopes of avoiding a situation like so. But sometimes tells me that even if I'd saying anything from the off, that Mum and Ron would've still flipped."

"I mean, I do understand why they're so shocked," Hermione admitted, idly playing with the crumbs on her plate. "But what do they really think is going to happen between you and Draco that is so bad?"

"I have no idea," Ginny sighed despondently. "It's not as if he's going to lock me up in the west wing of their manor. But he's different, Hermione. He isn't the same prat that we knew back at school. Well, he still has that proverbial Malfoy arrogance, but it's not to the point where I want to hex him."

"I don't think any of us are the same," Hermione quietly offered. "I suppose thinking that you're about to die will change your perspective on things. You know, it's funny. Right before I relocated my parents to Australia, it was as if my Mum knew something; she just couldn't put her finger on it. The week before we came to the Burrow, she wanted to talk to me, and one of the things she said was to be happy. Mum didn't really elaborate, but she said, 'Hermione, be happy.'"

"Are you happy?"

Hermione mused over her less than conventional relationship with Severus, along with the shaky one with Ron and Harry. "I'm happier compared to before. I mean, who wouldn't be, seeing as how we no longer have the threat of being killed at a moment's notice looming over our heads. It does make going about day to day easier."

"You know, I never really go to ask you about your parents; how did all of that come about?"

"Modifying Mum and Dads' memories and relocating them to Australia was the easy part," Hermione began. "The hardest was knowing that I couldn't keep in contact with them. Dad was killed in an automobile accident, although to this day I still wonder if that was what really happened."

"Oh, Hermione, I'm sorry," Ginny apologized with a pained expression on her face.

"Thanks, love," Hermione replied. "I'd found out through their solicitor; it was damned hard finding someone that was privy with the Wizarding and Muggle world, but he was a big help. The solicitor was the one that helped me to bring Mum back. I'd reinstated her memories easily enough, but it wasn't until later that we both found out that she was sick-very sick. Mum kept complaining about feeling under the weather, and I wanted to stay behind with her, but she told me to go back to Hogwarts; that she didn't want to interfere with my apprenticeship. The next thing I know, an owl visits me at the laboratory, right as I was in the middle of brewing, to bring me a letter stating that Mum was in the hospital and not expected to live long. I was with her all of three days before she died. That was the last thing I'd expected to happen."

The pain of losing her mother was still raw, and Hermione bit down hard on her lip, trying to keep the tears from welling up in her eyes.

"I'm sorry, Hermione," Ginny murmured, getting up to wrap her arms around Hermione. "I'm an idiot. Here I am going on about my menial little drama, and you've been holding this in the entire time."

"Thanks, Gin," Hermione sniffled, wiping her face on a napkin one Ginny had sat back down. "I'm all right, it's just still hard to think about. I still think I should have done more - what, I don't know - but something. Mum was sick and alone and I was nowhere around."

"Hermione, you can't blame yourself," the redhead gently chided. "Besides, if you're anything like your Mum, that means that you were both equally headstrong. Sick or not, your mother would have wanted you to keep on with your life, not worrying yourself incessantly over her."

"Yes, you have a point," Hermione sadly conceded. "She hated being fussed over; even when she was in the hospital her doctor told me that she'd given him and the staff a hard time." Laughing to herself at the memory, Hermione remembered the day she'd prepared a basket lunch to take up to the hospital, walking in the room to find her mother fussing at a nurse and trying to shoo her out.

"All right, that's enough of my sob story before I start to cry again," she said, abruptly changing the subject. "Do you want to go for a walk? It might take your mind off things."

Ginny's brown eyes brightened at the idea. "Really? We can do that?"

"Yes, why not?" Hermione replied. "It's not as if we're going to cast our Patronuses out in the road and watch them wrestle one another."

"Yeah, because my horse would surely trample your otter," Ginny cheekily told her friend.

"You are terrible, Gin," Hermione scolded, getting up from the table. "Wait, before we go I think I should put Midnight up in my room. It would break my heart if there were any mishaps between him and Button."

"Button might be small, but believe me, he'd peck out your cat's eyes if he tried anything," Ginny assured.

"I'm almost afraid to ask how you know this," Hermione frowned as they walked into the front room. She transfigured both their cloaks into something less conspicuous and handed over Ginny's.

"Fred and George have a sweets shop next door to them, and the owner, Mrs. Tilly, has a Kneazle that sort of looks like Crookshanks. I stopped by for a visit and we went to buy some cream cakes when it tried to jump on Button. Merlin, it was mortifying trying to get Button off her familiar, but her Kneazle left him alone! In fact, he ran to the back of her shop, sounding as if he was crying."

Hermione didn't want to laugh but was unable to help herself, and her repressed snorts spurred on Ginny's. "All right, I guess you prove a valid point," she gasped, slipping both arms into her transfigured jacket. Ginny already had her jacket on, and was appreciatively eyeing her friend's wand work.

"Nice job, Hermione," she murmured, looking up from the grey material to flick her red hair over one shoulder. "Let's chivvy on then; I don't care if we take a walk around the corner at this point, I just need to clear my thoughts."

"Then let's not waste time, come on," Hermione urged, tucking her wand into her pocket and urging Ginny towards the front door.

The two idled around Hermione's neighborhood a bit before Ginny decided that she wanted to go to London. Apparating to Diagon Alley, they exited through one of the Wizarding pubs and came out on the other side of a Muggle street. Leisurely strolling about and stopping whenever they fancied, Hermione pointed out anything that was unfamiliar to Ginny. She was just in the middle of explaining the function of a cashpoint machine when Ginny darted away from her.

"I need to bring Dad down here," she mused, now peering into the window of a shop that sold electronics and other gadgets. "He would have a field day."

"I'm surprised that you haven't visited London more often," Hermione said after they began walking again. "It's not as if it's that far from Diagon Alley."

"I know, but Mum preferred to stay on that side, even after Fred and George told her that they didn't mind walking over with me. But with all of their mischief I suppose she didn't trust those them; not that I can blame her."

Hermione shook her head, thinking about the unending mischief that the twins had gotten into over the years. "There's no debating that. They are devious."

"Hmm," Ginny hummed, still peeking into each shop they passed. "Something smells delicious," she commented, pausing in place. "What is that?"

Hermione arched an eyebrow, curiously sniffing the air. "It smells like your regular run-of-the-mill fish and chips."

"I'd like some. Let's go inside."

Once Hermione and Ginny were seated and had their orders taken, there were served by a brusque mannered, portly shaped woman. Barely uttering a word as she placed their meal down on the table, Ginny dug into her food before the waitress made it back behind the counter.

"This is excellent," she enthused, taking a large sip of Coca-cola. "It's just as good as pumpkin juice. I wager Luna would love this."

"Knowing Luna and her affinity for anything sweet, I'm sure," Hermione replied, swallowing and wiping her lips on a paper napkin. "Uh oh, it looks as if you have an admirer," she surreptitiously added, looking across the restaurant to see a young man that looked to be slightly older than both girls boldly staring at Ginny.

"Oh yeah?" Ginny gleefully replied, casually turning around and locating the dark haired young man. "He is rather fit, but damn, he sort of reminds me of Harry, what with that hair."

Snickering into her water glass, Hermione peeked around Ginny, noticing that he did in fact, slightly resemble Harry. "Though presumably you'd prefer your bloke with the pale, blond hair."

Ginny smirked at her friend, neatly putting a piece of thickly battered fish into her mouth. "Too right you are, Hermione. And what color hair does your bloke have?"

Hermione paused for a minute, wondering if she should confess. "Well, not that I've ever had a preference, but dark, almost ebony."

Ginny's had just picked up her glass to take another pull of her beverage when her brown eyes widened. "Well, go on then! Is it someone I know?"

"Er...sort of, yes..."

"Did you meet him at school? Or is he a Muggle?" Ginny lowered her voice on the word 'Muggle'.

"No, he's one of us," Hermione gingerly replied.

"Come on, Hermione, you're going to have to do better than that." Shoving a few chips into her mouth, Ginny raptly stared at Hermione, waiting for her to continue.

"He's older than us, so keep it mind that I haven't told anyone," Hermione explained, now fidgeting with her fork.

"Hermione, you know I'm not going to tell anyone. And besides, there's nothing wrong with seeing someone that's older than you. It happens all the time."

"Well, it's more than just a few years...closer to, I guess your parent's ages."

"Blimey, Hermione, who is it?"

"Do you promise to not say anything?"

"Shall I take a wand oath?"

"No, that's not necessary...fine it's..." Hermione pulled Ginny towards her, cupping a hand around her ear and whispering her beau's name.

"NO!" Ginny yelped, nearly toppling out of her seat. "How? Since when? What?"

"Ginny-"

"Oh my goodness, I cannot believe it! You and Snape! How the bloody hell did that come about?"

"Well, it wasn't until after I'd begun my apprenticeship," Hermione hissed, furtively looking around and motioning for Ginny to keep her voice down. "It's not as if I'd been harboring some schoolgirl crush on him all along, but I will admit I've always thought of the man as being brilliant."

"I know, Hermione, but Snape? Severus Snape, our headmaster, Severus cantankerous Snape?"

"If it's any consolation, he's not cantankerous towards me," Hermione replied with a wink. "Sarcastic and cynical, yes, but it's not as if I'd expect that to change."

"Wow, I cannot believe it," Ginny exhaled, slumping back into her seat.

"Hey, you're a fine one to talk," Hermione said, poking Ginny in her side. "Don't you have your own Slytherin to contend with?"

"Yeah, but still...hey, does Snape have anything to do with Luna finding you crying the other day?"

Hermione opened her mouth but nothing came out, obviously showing hesitation.

"Forget I asked," Ginny told her dismissively, "Besides, you've shared more than enough. Any more excitement and I just might expire."

"You idiot," Hermione laughed. "Are you nearly finished? We can go back to Diagon Alley to visit Fred and George at the joke shop."

"Yes, I'm done," Ginny replied, pushing her plate away. "Wait, I need the loo first."

Hermione craned her neck to the back of the restaurant, finding the tatty lavatory sign hanging on the wall. "It's that way. Do you need me to come with?"

"I think I can manage, mummy, thank you." Poking her tongue out, Ginny slid down from her seat and followed Hermione's pointing finger. Hermione settled the bill for their meal, realizing that she also needed a trip to the lavatory. Ginny was just coming out of the stall when she walked in.

"You know, I sort of expected something different than this," she began after making sure that they were the only ones in the lavatory. "But it's not much different than... you know."

"I know what you mean," Hermione replied, her voice slightly muffled behind the stall door. "A bit prosaic, isn't it? That's why I prefer magic; if nothing it makes everything more interesting."

Ginny cocked her head in agreement as she washed her hands at the basin. "That is does."

It didn't take long for the two to cross back into Diagon Alley, where they continued on to Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. Upon entry to the shop, they were immediately assailed by a group of screaming children that were testing out a bunch of Canary Creams. Attempting to walk around the three, oversized canaries, Ginny and Hermione froze when they heard George's voice.

"Oi, Ginny! Get up here, you," he called from above their heads. "Hello, Hermione."

Hermione waved to George, whom was clad in a smart looking three-piece suit, before turning back to Ginny."Oh damn, here we go," Ginny muttered under her breath, maneuvering around another child that came precariously close to knocking her over. Hermione followed Ginny up the narrow set of steps, right behind her as they walked into a spacious office that housed various bits and bobs, along with prototypes of new products.

"Hey, Hermione, little sis," Fred cheerfully greeted each witch from his place behind a large oak desk, similarly dressed like his twin. "We wondered when you'd be coming around."

"What the bloody hell are you going on about?" Ginny snapped exasperatedly.

"Give us a little credit, Gin," George reprimanded, wrapping one lanky arm around his sister's shoulder. "We know about what happened this morning."

"Damn. How did you find out about that?"

"Mum," George replied.

"And then Ron," Fred added. "He came shouting through the Floo; said you'd gone off with Hermione."

"And then your blond haired bloke sent his own Floo call when he couldn't find you," George continued.

"Draco was trying to find me?" Ginny gasped, looking at her brothers.

"Yes!" Fred replied, getting up from his desk and coming around to perch on its edge. "It's been a ruddy madhouse all morning, what with everyone bellowing from the hearth with their Floo calls. We had to get Cynthia and Henrik to stay at the counter downstairs."

"I'm sorry for causing all of this muck," Ginny muttered, hanging her head low.

"Buck up, Gin," Fred cheerfully told his sister. "You behave as if you've killed someone. Better yet, hang on."

Hermione, Ginny and George watched as Fred stood upright and walked to the hearth in the middle of his office. Grabbing a handful of Floo powder into the open space, he waited for the green flames to appear before calling into the fire. "Oi, Malfoy!"

It was a few seconds before Draco's head appeared. "George, have you heard from her yet?"

"It's Fred, and why don't you get your arse in here and see for yourself?"

"All right, move back then," Draco gruffly replied. Hermione stood watching with wide eyes, in disbelief that the two wizards were conversing with one another with such casualty. The next minute, the hearth flashed a brighter emerald green, and Draco stepped forth, his face turned up as he brushed a smudge of soot off the sleeve of his immaculate black suit. George gave Ginny's back a slight shove, pushing her to the middle of the room.

"Your brothers told me what happened," Draco said, ignoring everyone else as he strode right up to Ginny. "Why didn't you let me know what was going on?"

"I was planning on it, Draco," Ginny replied. "But this morning I wasn't thinking straight with Mum and Ron yelling at me; all I could focus on was sending Button to Hermione."

"And what do you suppose this is for?" he drawled, delicately lifting up Ginny's gold and emerald encased wrist. "Well, as long as you're all right now. Did you look after my girl, Granger?"

Hermione was now standing between Fred and George, trying to ignore the dwarfed feeling as the two redheads towered over her. "I surely did, Draco. Shall I leave her in your capable hands now?"

Ginny turned to look at her brothers, only for Fred to wave her on. "Go. We'll pacify Mum later. Besides, we've already sent Dad an owl to warn him before he gets home."

Using language that was reminiscent of Ron that morning, Ginny glared at Fred. "Has Dad also decided to disown me yet?"

"Stop being so melodramatic, Weaslette," Draco told Ginny, holding onto her hand. "You could tell your Dad that you wanted to set fire to the offices at the Ministry of Magic and he'd hand you the matches."

"He's right, Gin, and you know it," George agreed. "She's had Dad wrapped round her finger since she was a baby," he told Draco. "A right pain, at that. Ginny could do anything and would never get into trouble."

"Sort of like you as well, Draco," Hermione grinned.

Smirking back at her, Draco's hand tightened around Ginny's. "I'll have you know that I was a perfectly behaved, little wizard," he loftily replied.

"I know full well you don't expect me to believe that tripe!" Hermione shot back with a laugh. "You've been a little prat since birth."

"I know not of what you speak, Granger," Draco sniffed. "Anyway, shall we?" he asked, looking at Ginny.

"Are you sure you don't mind?" Ginny said worriedly, looking back at her brothers.

"No, Freddie's already told you to get moving," George told her. "We'll sort it later; now get."

Ginny flashed a smile at the two before letting go of Draco's hand, walking over to Hermione. "Thanks for everything love," she said. "Oh, damn! I forgot! Button's still at your house."

"I'll send him over, don't worry about it," Hermione told her. "Now go on; you know it's practically a crime to keep a Malfoy waiting." Draco shot Hermione one last sardonic look before he and Ginny disappeared into the hearth.

"Soo, Hermione," Fred began after his Ginny and Draco were gone. "How are things?"

"To be honest-thank you," she began, sitting down in the chair that George was now holding out for her, "It makes me want a drink. Or a nap, at the very least. I've been up since the crack of dawn after receiving Ginny's owl." Fighting back a yawn, Hermione covered her mouth and looked up at Fred. "How is it that you two are so accepting of all this, and Ronald is flying into a purple rage?"

"That's our dear ole Ronniekins for you," George replied, pulling up another chair and sitting down next to Hermione. She was heavily leaning onto Fred's desk, deeply enthralled with a blue Pygmy Puff that made an appearance from behind an empty box of Fever Fudge.

"I know, but still," Hermione murmured, her right pointer finger outstretched as she stroked the creature's fluffy, blue rotund body. "It doesn't give him the right to talk to Ginny or me for that matter the way he did."

"We'll talk to our git of a brother," Fred reassured, sitting back down behind his desk. "Say, while you're here, do you mind trying out some of our new products? We need a few testers."

"Oh, no you don't!" Hermione exclaimed, pulling her hand away from the Pygmy Puff. "I'm all too familiar with the outcome of others playing guinea pig for you. I'd like to return back home in one piece, if you don't mind."

"No no, this one is relatively tame compared to the other stuff," George smiled, rifling through more packages on Fred's desk, before unearthing a small blue box. Handing over what looked like an innocuous taffy, Hermione eyed the sweet with great trepidation, wary about even holding it. "It changes your hair into whatever style you want; all you need do is eat it and voila!" he stated with a flourish.

"And how long does this last for?" Hermione asked, still holding the sweet in her outstretched palm.

"Well, we've gotten it up to hold for two hours," Fred explained, "But all you need to do is use your wand if you want to change your hair back."

"If I eat this and grow horns or something, you do know that I'm going to hex your bollocks off, right?" Hermione threatened, the toffee now between two fingers and poised at her lips.

"Do you honestly think we'd do that to you?" George asked in a hurt tone.

"I hope you don't actually expect me to answer that," Hermione offered with a crooked smile. "All right, fine. I'll try your...whatever you call this."

"We're still in the works of thinking up a name," Fred told her, avidly watching as Hermione placed the toffee in her mouth and began chewing. "Right then, once you swallow, just picture how you want your hair to look." Hermione continued to look apprehensive yet did as Fred suggested, and her hair soon turned three shades darker.

"So? Did it work?" she asked as the twins eyes her with great speculation. When they didn't answer fast enough for her satisfaction, Hermione reached up to pull a lock of hair in front of her eyes. "Oh, I guess it did. I hope that's all it did."

"Your hair's darker," George mused, tilting his head to the side. "But it looks the same."

"Did you mean for that to happen?" Fred asked.

"Yes," Hermione replied. "I guess I was curious to see what I'd look like with darker hair, but you should already know that I'm not that adventurous. Besides if your little experiment went awry, it might have been harder to fix."

"You talk as if you don't trust us," George told her.

"I'm sure you don't expect that to warrant a reply," Hermione retorted as she stood up. "All right you two; seeing as Ginny's left with Draco, I'll also be on my way. Of course, I'm sure this madness hasn't come to an end yet, but we'll have to get it sorted another day."

"Yeah, sure thing," Fred nodded his head. "But like we said, we'll talk to Ron and Mum. It's not like they can stay mad forever."

"Well...I hope so," Hermione dubiously replied, knowing all too well how they seemed to have quite the affinity for holding onto grudges. "Can I Apparate out of here?"

"Yeah, we do it all the time," George answered.

Flashing a brief smile, Hermione bade the twins goodbye before popping out of view.

The stench of dirty water and stale air filled Hermione's nose, once she found herself in an unfamiliar, dilapidated town. Gingerly walking between the narrow alleyway of bricked, terraced houses, Hermione dodged around litter and other refuse to was scattered about on the unevenly paved pathway. Coming to an opening, Hermione noticed that there were similar houses also across the street.

'Damn,' she swore inwardly, forgetting the number of the house she was seeking out. Trying to ignore a suspicious, dirty looking man that was sauntering past her, Hermione pulled her bag out from beneath her cloak and yanked it open, digging around through its remains. Her fingers had just curled around the neatly folded scrap of paper when she felt a strong hand come down over her wrist, tightly holding it into place.

Growing paralyzed with fear, Hermione felt her legs nearly give out beneath her, unable to let out the frightened squeak that had become dislodged in her throat. Hermione's heart thudded so ferociously, that she was nearly on the verge of losing the contents of her stomach right then and there, until she looked up into two familiar obsidian eyes.

Severus bore an irritated sneer on his face as he wordlessly yanked Hermione against the front of the brick house, the tip of his wand exposed so that she was the only one able to see it.

"Severus, what the devil is wrong with you?" Hermione hissed under her breath, her wrist still trapped in the firm grasp of his hand.

Severus stared at Hermione for a moment before lowering his wand. "You look different. I had to make sure it was you." The dark wizard didn't look conscience-stricken in the least, even after his grip lessened on Hermione as he unceremoniously opened the weather-worn wooden door and ushered her inside. "You little simpleton. What do you mean by standing about, going through your handbag in the open for all the world to see?"

"I couldn't remember your exact address," she answered in a small voice, following Severus into the depths of the small house.

"Perhaps next time, you'll commit it to memory before venturing on," he curtly replied, pushing open another door, allowing Hermione to step in first. "This isn't an area you want to stand around in, especially with you looking like a dewy-eyed schoolgirl. You stick out like a sore thumb around these parts in case you hadn't noticed."

Severus had waved one dismissive hand at a low, threadbare armchair, in which Hermione sat down and primly crossed her ankles. She realized that they were in a small sitting room, yet there were so many books covering nearly every inch of the walls from ceiling to floor that it felt like a small cupboard. Off to the side was what looked like a small kitchen, all of what Hermione being able to make out consisting of the end of a table that had seen better days and a sink.

Severus was now seated in an armchair across from her, an abandoned book on a small table to the side. His dark eyes were focused on Hermione as the tentatively looked around the room, no doubt in his mind that her little fingers were itching to yank out each and every book from his collection to pour over.

The air in the sitting room was slightly musty as if the house had been unoccupied for a length of time, and the lighting was poor. Yet none of it seemed to phase Hermione as she took her jacket off without bothering to transfigure it back into its original state, distractedly dropping it onto her chair and getting up to cross over to one bookshelf. "Are these really all yours?" she asked, her voice laced with awe as her brown eyes skimmed over each title.

"Whose else would they belong to? This is my house."

Hermione turned around, resisting the urge to narrow her eyes at Severus before focusing back on his vast collection. "It's like you have nearly the entire Hogwarts library in your home, only I haven't ever seen any of these titles."

"It isn't as if you can meander into Flourish and Blotts to find any of these particular tomes," Severus curtly explained as he stood up and walked over to Hermione. "I've had many of these since before you were born; although, you should take note that you can safely touch and read anything you see."

"That's a relief," Hermione replied with a shudder, thinking back to the cursed tome she had accidentally touched back in Severus' room at Hogwarts. Finding that she inexplicably felt shy, Hermione craned her head slightly to look at Severus. As expected he was towering over her, clad in black trousers and surprisingly enough, a casual grey jumper. Even through the murkiness of the room, Severus was still able to clearly notice the change of Hermione's hair, and he picked up a few strands between his thumb and forefinger, eyeing them as if they possessed the power of speech.

"I don't mind if you change it back," Hermione said. "My hair only looks like this because I let Fred and George use me to test out one of their new products."

Severus dropped Hermione's hair, withdrawing his wand and flicking it at her head. "Still letting others use you as their laboratory subject, I see," he drawled. "As it were, it didn't look bad; I just prefer your natural colouring."

Hermione also preferred her hair in its natural state but was pleased with Severus' admittance. She let some of her weight fall against his side, smiling into his chest when his arm came around her. Severus' jumper nearly matched the fusty smell of the room, yet beneath the fabric the sage, herbal scent that seemed forever embedded into his skin remained. Despite the fact that both of Severus' arms were now around her, Hermione couldn't help but notice that he seemed more tense than usual.

"What's the matter?" she asked, hoping that he wasn't still upset over her previous slip of judgment. Sliding her arms around Severus' rigid form, Hermione tilted her face to look up at him, waiting for an answer.

Severus looked down at Hermione, his lank hair falling in a curtain around his face. He pressed his lips to her forehead, remaining silent the entire time. "How did everything go with Miss Weasley this morning?" he finally asked.

Hermione heaved a sigh, grumbling into the light wool of Severus' jumper. "Horribly," she replied, nuzzling her cheek against his chest. "Molly is on the brink of disowning her child. Ron all but called his sister a whore, all the while using language not fit for sailors towards us in a tone that could be heard across the globe. He's lucky I didn't hex his bits off."

"He didn't put his hands on you, did he?" Severus inquired, a dangerous glint appearing in his dark eyes.

"No no, goodness no," Hermione hastily reassured. "I don't think he's that far off his rocker. He's already seen Malfoy on the receiving end of my right hook in our third year, and besides, Ron isn't the type to strike a woman."

Severus continued to frown yet didn't offer any further opinion on the matter. With his arm still around Hermione's waist, he led her across the room and settled into his armchair, pulling her down to sit on his lap. She felt perfectly at ease sitting atop Severus, even if he was being uncommunicative. Gently resting her head against his, Hermione reached for Severus' hand, using her fingertip to trace along the deeply etched lines into his palm.

The two sat in silence as Hermione continued to trace shapes into the pale skin of Severus' left hand. She had just moved up to his wrist, grazing her digits over the pale blue lines of his veins showing through the delicate flesh when he finally spoke.

"I've always dreaded returning here once the school term ended," Severus gravely commented. Hermione kept her focus on his wrist, waiting to see if he was going to continue. She remembered Severus previously mentioning his father, as well as the sour tone his voice had taken on. "This was my parents' house; left in my possession once they'd passed. I've never had fond memories of this place." Severus began absentmindedly playing with Hermione's hair, the space between his brow furrowing as he sank into a broody reverie.

Hermione sighed when Severus began lightly massaging the back of her neck. She wished she knew what had Severus in a wound up state, but was aware that he had a tendency to get touchy if he was pressed him to speak.

"It has nothing to do with you, Hermione," he told her in a low voice.

"How did you?-" she began, her eyes going wide with comprehension. "Stay out of my head," she fiercely whispered. "Unless you'd like to pay rent for living there." Hermione wasn't upset at Severus peeking into her thoughts; rather she was astonished that he was always able to do so in an unobtrusive manner.

Severus gave a chuckle, pressing a soft kiss to Hermione's lips before urging her off his lap. "Come, I need to show you around."

Aside from the fact that the rest of Severus' house contained the same musty scent as the sitting room, it was marginally clean as if he'd done a onceover with his wand. Severus pointed out the rickety step on top of the landing, cautioning Hermione to watch her footing whenever she walked upstairs. After explaining that the taps in both the kitchen and lavatory had to run for a while before the water became hot, Severus led Hermione to his bedroom.

It was slightly smaller than his suite at Hogwarts, and just as simple. The room contained a single bookshelf that was completely full, an old wooden desk with a few more books scattered about. A large, double wrought iron bed dominated the space, above its headboard a window with faded curtains. The bed was made with dark blue sheets and a matching duvet, although the pillows looked a bit flattened.

Hermione had been trying to surreptitiously peer at the books on Severus' desk when he tugged her out of the bedroom. "We'll go back to my sitting room. I know those little fingers of yours are just itching to tear apart my bookshelves."

"As if that's a surprise," Hermione replied unashamedly, following Severus down the narrow, rickety staircase.

The two spent the rest of their afternoon reading in Severus' sitting room, only stopping to prepare supper and eat it in the small kitchen. Severus' dark mood seemed to lift slightly, even if he wasn't particularly chatty. Hermione's early morning soon caught up with her, and she began nodding off over her book in the sitting room.

"That book isn't going to sprout legs and run away, Hermione," Severus remarked, noticing her drooping eyelids. "Perhaps you should go to bed and resume your reading tomorrow."

"I don't want to go by myself," she averred, closing the book and placing it behind her on the chair. Arching an eyebrow when Severus smirked at her, Hermione stood up, waiting for him to also move from his seat.

"Shall I tuck you in and read you a bedtime story as well? Perhaps a mug of cocoa?"

"Shush, Severus. Come with me."

"I don't remember saying that I was ready for bed," he testily replied, enjoying the sway of Hermione's hips as she walked in front of him.

"Well, I'm no master Legilimens, but it's not as if we have to sleep," she loftily added while walking out of the sitting room and cautiously making her way up the stairs, remembering to avoid the last dodgy step.

Severus silently mused over Hermione's words as they walked into his bedroom. Announcing that she wanted to shower before bed, Severus dug out a towel and flannel and handed it to Hermione. Stripping off his own clothes and laying down in bed, Severus listened to the sounds of splashing water as Hermione moved out in the lavatory.

Both hands folded beneath his head, Severus stared up at the cracks in the plastered ceiling, unfocused. There had been many nights that he lie awake as a young man, staring at the same uneven cracks, as he listened to the sounds of his parents arguing. He had given Hermione the succinct, streamlined version of his upbringing when he told her that he wasn't thrilled about returning to his childhood home.

It was a casual occurrence for his father, Tobias, to go on a drinking binge. If his mother wasn't on the brunt end of her husband's cruelness, then it befell to his son. Sometimes his father would succumb to a whiskey-induced stupor, falling asleep at the kitchen table or in the armchair in the sitting room. Once he'd actually remained halfway slumped at the bottom of the narrow staircase, with his long legs sprawled akimbo on the floor. Severus and his mother Eileen, were just grateful for the unaccustomed silence of the house and had opted to tiptoe around the unconscious man.

Other times when only Severus and Eileen remained in the house, the atmosphere was still just as tense. Severus' mother would collapse into a state of silence, seemingly forgetting that she had a child. Severus thought back to one afternoon when Tobias soundly backhanded Eileen across the face, after which he grabbed his jacket and stormed out of the house, slamming the door behind him so hard that it rattled the window panes.

Eileen hadn't bothered with touching the angry red mark on her face; she merely sat at the kitchen table, dazedly staring at the chipped, dingy white teacup in front of her. She barely gave a second thought to her son creeping into the kitchen, pausing to stand beside her at the battered table. Severus proceeded to ask his mum if she was all right, only for her to distractedly tell him to go outside and play. He had turned to walk out of the kitchen when Eileen stopped him, divesting herself of a rumpled grey smock to pull it down over her son's head.

Severus hated wearing that smock, as Eileen only used it to cover up her somewhat better apparel whenever she was cooking or doing the washing. She was adamant that Severus cover up his own clothes with it, aware of his affinity for foraging around in areas that always left his clothing soiled or torn. It was mortifying to be made to wear his mum's smock, yet Severus only capitulated once he found an old jacket that belonged to his father. Thankfully it covered up the ugly, grey shift, but it also dwarfed his slender frame as the sleeves hung nearly to his fingertips.

Severus was highly aware of his odd appearance, which also made him a target for the neighborhood bullies, a burly lot consisting of boys that were bigger than him. There had been a time where he wished that he was able to join in on their games, until one day when the ringleader, a bawdy youth named Tommy, made a rude comment about his parentage. Severus didn't harp on the bigger boy's snide remarks; but he surely took a gleeful delight when Tommy was alone one day, and unaware that he was being watched.

The young man had climbed atop of one of the bricked fences, tottering along the edge in some sort of single-player game. Severus had just come into view when the boy noticed him. Tommy had opened his mouth to make another disparaging remark when his feet grew weak beneath him, causing him to promptly topple off the fence, in the process twisting his ankle, breaking his elbow and gaining a bloody nose. Instead of the mean-spirited, malicious child that Tommy was whenever his friends were around, he had been reduced to a pile of snot and tears, cradling his elbow and begging Severus to help him.

Severus had remained silent, his dark eyes coolly appraising the bleeding boy lying on the pavement, before neatly stepping over him and going on his way. He never had a problem with Tommy or any of his gang after that, although he still opted to stick to his solitude.

It wasn't long after that incident when Severus met Lily. Whenever Tobias would come home reeking of alcohol, Eileen would force her son out of the house, in an attempt to spare him from her husband's drunken wrath. Severus took to ambling along the abandoned outskirts of town, practicing the small amount of magic that he'd been able to command thus far in the grassy clearing.

At first sight of Lily and her sister, Petunia, he was embarrassed to be seen in his shabby clothing. Petunia immediately drew her face up, attempting to pull her sister away from the odd looking boy. Lily, on the other hand, wasn't put off the least bit by his appearance and drew closer, despite her sister's loud protests.

Severus still felt a pang of regret whenever he thought about his childhood friend. There had been countless times that he went over a litany of what-ifs in his mind, mulling over the fact that things might have gone differently had it not been for his actions. Severus knew that harping on the past wouldn't bring Lily back nor exonerate him for his past transgressions, and he nearly felt justified for almost losing his life back in the Shrieking Shack.

At first, Severus tried to convince himself that the only reason Hermione risked her own life to help save his, was because of her foolish Gryffindor sense of nobility. But the fact remained; he had Obliviated her, and anything Hermione had done afterwards was of her own free will.

Just then, Hermione walked into Severus' bedroom, the towel wrapped around her damp body and her water darkened curls hanging down between her shoulder blades. "Damn, I thought I'd put something to sleep in here along with my toothbrush," she muttered, one hand rooting around in her handbag.

"What else do you have in there?" Severus asked, frowning as he pushed himself up on one elbow.

"Ermm..." Hermione trailed off, lugging the small bag over with her and sitting down on the bed beside him. It was obviously heavier than it looked, and deeper than met the eye. Quirking one eyebrow, Severus pulled his wand out from beneath his pillow, and flicked it at Hermione's bag. The charm was immediately lifted, and an oversized bag now rested on Hermione's knees. "Thank you," she sarcastically replied, still pawning through its contents. "I have a few books...hair grips...lip balm...another book...my toothbrush and clean knickers. But no nightgown."

"I guess that means you'll have to sleep naked," Severus wickedly suggested with a gleam in his eye.

Scoffing in mock annoyance, Hermione carted her large bag over to Severus' desk and placed it next to a pile of books. "Somehow I doubt you'd have an issue with that," she replied, moving back over to him. "But what if I get cold in the middle of the night? It's a bit drafty in here."

"Have I allowed you to become cold any other time?" Severus drawled, now using his wand to cast a drying charm on Hermione's hair. The tresses immediately lightened as the water evaporated, leaving behind soft, wispy curls that framed her face.

"No," Hermione answered, removing and folding her towel, draping it over the back of a chair. "But I suppose I was a bit distracted." Sliding onto the bed, Hermione climbed over Severus, causing the springs to creak nosily as she slipped beneath the duvet when he lifted it for her.

Hermione found that Severus was also completely starkers, and she immediately curled against his warm side. "Good lord woman, you just got out of the bath. Why are your feet so bloody cold?" Severus griped when he felt Hermione pressing her frigid little toes against the tops of his slender feet.

"I don't know," she murmured, brushing her lips against his lightly furred chest. "I'm surprised my feet are cold. I nearly burned my flesh off when the water got scalding hot for a second."

"Sorry about that," he sighed, slipping an arm around her waist. "I'll sort it out in the morning."

The dark, brooding look on Severus' face hadn't slipped Hermione's notice when she returned from bathing. She knew that he wouldn't tell her what was ailing him, even if she asked, but she was still disquieted nonetheless. Turning around to face Severus, Hermione folded her arms across his slightly protruding ribcage, resting her chin on both hands.

Neatly laying between Severus' outstretched legs, Hermione fixedly looked upon her black-haired lover. Barely registering the semi-erect cock poking her stomach, she found Severus steadily staring back at her, his dark eyes marginally softer than they had been when she first walked in the room.

"What are you thinking about?" he asked, breaking the stretch of silence.

"I was wondering what had you aggravated all day," Hermione answered honestly. "I mean, if it was something else besides what you'd already told me."

"Would you become offended if I said that I didn't want to talk about it?" Hermione shook her head, still looking up at Severus as his fingers began tucking loose strands of hair behind her ear. He took a deep breath, his rising chest slightly lifting Hermione in the process. "If you'd like to know, I'll tell you, so long as you keep your pity and sympathetic notions to a minimum."

"I promise that you shall have neither," Hermione assured, moving her hands out of the way to press her cheek against Severus' chest. His arms came around her, idly stroking her back as he launched into the tale of his miserable upbringing.

Hermione was disgusted to hear the horrific ways that Severus and his mother were treated by Tobias. She noticeably flinched when Severus explained that the very bedroom they were in, was the same one he'd always use, the bed the same one where he use to lie as the sound of his parents fighting permeated the walls. Shock was an understatement as to how Hermione felt when Severus explained that many nights he and Eileen had gone hungry because his father spent their food money on alcohol. Hermione was unable to fathom such a thing, and had to bite down hard on her lip to keep from crying.

"Did I not say that your pity was unnecessary?" Severus remarked, his hand stroking the side of Hermione's face.

"Well I'm not cold-hearted," she replied. "It's terrible to imagine a child in such a barbaric predicament."

"I won't lie or pretend and sat that things got easier once I left; because they didn't," Severus continued. "Of course, I never went hungry at Hogwarts. But it takes more than just food or water to sustain a body."

As Severus had gotten older, it became quite clear to him that his upbringing wasn't typical when he compared it to that of his peers. While his classmates happily chattered on about holiday plans, or the presents their mums and dads had owled, Severus kept his head buried in a book, encased in his own little shell against the world.

He was used to being the odd man out, and knew that attempting to make friends would prove pointless. Still, deep inside resided the need to be accepted by others. When that hadn't happened, Severus settled for demanding others' respect at the very least. Word spread like wildfire that he wasn't a wizard to be trifled with, and soon enough mostly everyone gave him wide berth.

All except for James Potter and his cronies.

It was nearly akin to dealing with Tommy and his gang from back home, except both wizards were nearly on equal standing. Severus always found it interesting that James never attempted to attack him when they were alone; it was only when Remus, Peter and Sirius were around that he would taunt the lone teenager.

Up until then, the only person that was remotely friendly towards him was Lily, and for his remaining time at Hogwarts, Lucius Malfoy, whom was a Prefect. Severus had instinctively gotten the idea that Lucius mainly befriended people in order to use them as his minions. However, with his notorious affinity for the darker side of things, the two wizards never clashed.

James Potter, on the other hand, seemed to have a personal stake in provoking Severus. Things had only gotten worse between the two when Severus and Lily got into a strop, effectively ending their friendship. Severus hated James and wanted to place the blame upon his shoulders for the reason that he and Lily were no longer speaking, but deep inside he felt that it was also his fault.

Severus had stopped talking right before he was able to get into everything that happened between him and Lily, as well as the events that led up to her and James' death. Hermione had gone rigid against him, holding her breath as if she was scared to release it. "How is it that you're not put off by any of this?"

"Because, well, not that I wish to downplay any of what you've just shared with me, and thank you for doing so by the way, but coming face to face with an evil megalomaniac, reincarnate wizard that wants your blood sort of puts things in perspective."

"Eloquently put," Severus replied, pulling Hermione up for a kiss. "And now it's time to go to sleep."

"Why do you insist on treating me like a three year old?" Hermione reproached, even as she allowed Severus to tip her onto her side.

"Not a three year old- just a recalcitrant witch that doesn't always know when it's time to abdicate," Severus told her, muttering nox and leaving them in pitch black.

"That isn't true," Hermione grumbled, refusing to admit that her eyes were getting difficult to keep open.

"Don't be absurd, Hermione," Severus replied, pulling her into the fold of his arms. Hermione sighed when his chest pressed against her back, holding onto the arm that firmly insinuated itself against her breasts. "My little know-it-all's eyes are most likely closed as we speak, yet she still insists that she isn't tired."

"If I go to sleep now, will you put an end to your browbeating?"

"There's only one way to find out."

Hermione gave a short huff, wriggling her hips back into Severus'. "Good night, Severus," she murmured, tangling her now warmed feet with his and allowing her head to sink into the pillow.

Severus chuckled as he pressed a kiss into the back of her head. "Good night, Hermione."
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Broken Dreams