Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

To have loved, and lost (was Missed Chances)	By : professorflo Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 10677 -:- 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.
- 21
- 22
- 23
Thank you all for being so patient for this update. The last few weeks have been crazy, as Im sure all of you can attest. It would be lovely to know if anyone is still reading this.
The door opened with a quiet click before he even had the chance to raise his hand to knock, and it swung open to reveal a stern-faced Minerva making her way down the hall to meet him.
"What kept you?" he snapped as he stepped over the threshold.
Her frown deepened. "Don't you take that tone with me, young man!"
He dropped his head, chastened, knowing full well that Minerva was only here to help.
"I apologise, Minerva. It's just…"
Her face softened. "You're anxious, my boy. I can understand that, although you would be better served reigning in your temper if you are going to have any chance of getting through to her." She laid a comforting hand on his shoulder. "The reason for the delay is that Hermione has not long arrived back from work. We had hoped to encourage her to eat before calling you, but she went straight up to her room, and wouldn't have spoken to anyone had Mr. Potter not caught her as she went up the stairs. From his description, I would say she's in no fit state to do this tonight…"
Severus's heart sank.
"…but from what I understand, she's been much the same for the last few weeks. I can't imagine she'll be any more ready for this if we came back again tomorrow, or even next week."
He nodded, picking at the seams on his trousers with shaking fingers, since he couldn't trust himself to speak. Now that he was here, in the same house as her once again, his nerves were on the verge of getting the better of him.
"Well, come on in," Minerva encouraged, turning and leading him down the long hall.
As he followed, he tried to take his mind off his mounting nerves by taking in his surroundings. The old headquarters had seen some serious improvements in recent years. It was no longer dim and dank. The mouldy old wallpaper had been torn down and replaced. Most of the old paintings had been replaced with photos of Potter's family and friends, including what Severus assumed was his young son. He stopped looking after he came across the first photo that included a smiling Hermione, although he could swear he felt multiple sets of eyes on him as he crept past the last few photos with his gaze downcast.
Severus followed Minerva into the kitchen, which had also seen some improvements. Of course, he wasn't really one for interior decorating, but noting the newly painted cupboards seemed preferable to greeting Potter, who had just stood up from his seat at the table.
"Snape." His voice was hard and flat.
Severus finally looked down the table to meet his eyes. "Potter," he sneered back, unable to help himself.
"Now don't the two of you start. We're here to help Hermione, not to rekindle your abiding dislike of each other."
When neither man moved, she snapped, "Sit down, both of you. Right now."
Her tone brooked no nonsense, and Severus found himself seated across from Potter before he realised what he'd done. From the look on Potter's face, he seemed to be just as surprised at having obeyed without a second thought.
Severus had to hold back a snort. The hero of the wizarding world – the Boy who Lived Twice indeed. Heaven help them all if Minerva decided to turn rogue and try to take over the world if the Aurory's number one rising star couldn't refuse even a simple command. He purposely neglected to remember that he had jumped to obey just as quickly as Potter had.
"So," Minerva began, "I think we…"
"I still don't understand why he's even here," Harry said suddenly, but not without a touch of venom. "He's the whole bloody reason she's even in this state, yet his thinks he can just waltz in here and everything will magically be alright again. What the fuck did you do to her Snape? She hasn't said a word about what's gone on between you. She just turned up on the doorstep, looking so… defeated. I've never seen her like this, not even when we were on the run, with a horcrux round our necks, and had no idea for months what to do next. That didn't break her, yet somehow you managed it. So why the hell are you here now?"
"Mr Potter," Minerva spoke in her no-nonsense tones. "I would remind you that we have discussed this, and you agreed to let Severus try and speak to her."
"She won't even talk to any of us, what makes you think she'll talk to you, Snape?" Potter didn't even seem to acknowledge Minerva, his furious eyes fixed on Severus. "I never understood why she was so desperate to marry you, anyway. We were sure you would take advantage and mistreat her or something. I was sure it wouldn't take long before she came to us, asking for help, but she always somehow seemed content. We even checked her to make sure you hadn't slipped her a potion. I'm still not convinced you didn't."
Severus barely heard the accusation, surprised as he was by the previous words out of Potter's mouth. "You mean she's never once said anything about…?" He couldn't bring himself to name his sins in front of Potter, even now. "I thought she'd be running to you with every misdemeanour."
Harry's eyes narrowed. "Should she have had to? Are you saying you've been treating her like shit all along?"
Severus' silence spoke volumes. He couldn't even look either of them in the eye.
"Why you...!" Potter started across the table, reaching for him with a furious snarl.
Severus didn't flinch. Despite his like of the Boy Wonder, he knew that anything he did to him was more than deserved.
Potter's hands never landed, however, his motion halted by a silent spell from Minerva's wand.
"Now there'll be none of that, Mr Potter," she snapped. "It won't do anything to help that poor girl upstairs, and thought it might make you feel momentarily better, you know she wouldn't want anyone hurt on her account, deserved or not."
Severus still hadn't raised his eyes. He could feel Potter's angry gaze burning into the top of his head. He almost wished Minerva had let Potter do what he wished. Perhaps the pain would a way to begin absolving him of the wrongs he had committed.
"I believe," Minerva continued, "that there is no point lingering here any longer. Whatever has been tried so far has no worked, so we can only hope that Severus can make a difference." She flicked her wand again, forcing Potter back down onto the bench before releasing him.
"But he…"
"I am fully aware of your feeling on this matter, and I am also aware, as I am sure are you, that the only person whose feeling really matter in this situation are Hermione's."
"Well, I…"
He subsided reluctantly at a stern look from Minerva.
"I do rather think it would be better if you stay down here, while I take Severus up. I will, of course, be waiting outside the room for as long as it takes." She look seriously at both of them in turn, making it clear to both that there would be no over-riding her wishes in this.
Potter subsided into an untidy slump, his mouth set sulkily. He clearly was unhappy with Minerva's decision to leave him downstairs, but he was too well trained after several years under her authority as head of house to defy her, outwardly at least. Severus was not about to complain either. He had no wish to have Potter anywhere near while he spoke to his… Hermione, and he trusted Minerva not to interfere unless she thought it was absolutely necessary. And knowing the very easy way he seemed to be able to fuck up his relationships, it very likely would be necessary. Better her than Potter.
"Now, Severus, are you ready?"
Not really, he though, but responded instead with a curt nod, not trusting himself to say anything in that moment. Feeling dread settling in his stomach, he rose, keeping his gaze averted. He could feel Potter's eyes boring into his back as he meekly followed Minerva out of the kitchen and up two interminable flights of stairs, his fingers trailing up the worn bannisters as he climbed upwards with the air of a man making his way to the gallows.
Minerva paused outside the door at the end of the second floor landing, before turning to face Severus. For a moment, it looked like she was going to say something, but in the end she only reached up to squeeze his shoulder comfortingly, before moving back and gesturing towards the door. His mind a sudden blank, he took a deep breath, before he lifted his hand and knocked.
2 weeks earlier
He woke, disorientated. For a moment, before he was able to pry his sleep-encrusted eyes open, he was convinced that he was lying in his bed, and for a split second, he thought that he'd imagined the past few weeks. Upon opening his eyes, however, he realised that he'd actually slid off the set of his armchair sometime during the night, and was now lying amongst the detritus of the last weeks' drunken mess.
He groaned, rubbing his head at the temples where a steady throb was quickly building up to a full-on alcohol induced migraine. He'd need a potion to shift it – hair of the dog wouldn't be enough this time, although of course he'd be indulging himself in another bottle as soon as the potion had taken effect.
Gracelessly he pulled himself up so that he was leaning against his chair. Resting a moment as his head spun, he struggled to recall what had prompted his bender the night before. Slowly, hazy details began to seep back into place until he could recall what had upset him enough to drink himself into complete oblivion.
Judging by the darkness outside it had been quite late, yet he'd thought he'd heard someone opening the front door, and for a moment his traitorous heart had leapt, thinking that perhaps she'd come back. He'd staggered to his feet, and out into the tiny hall. It was empty. Clearly it had been wishful thinking.
He hadn't even realised he'd punched the wall in frustration until he'd stumbled back to grab his bottle, and had spotted the blood on his knuckles. His hand had clearly lost against the brick wall. The smear of red showed up garishly against the muted taupe of the paint she had chosen to redecorate with. He'd wiped it off carefully with a sleeve, loathe to mar the hard work she'd put in charming the paint onto the walls. For a moment he'd considered using a potion to mend what felt like broken bones, but it unfortunately wouldn't mix well with the bottle of whiskey he'd been consuming.
He'd fumbled for his wand, which had been wedged down the side of his chair, and managed to perform a basic reparo on his hand, despite knowing the charm wasn't mean for mending body parts. Two of his fingers still hadn't seemed to move properly, but at least the bleeding had stopped.
Once on his feet, he'd wandered the house aimlessly, a bottle tucked carefully under his arm. It was desolate without her. How could he have so heartily desired her absence from his house just a couple of weeks ago. He'd found himself in her room once more, although any purpose in doing so was now lost to the alcohol-induced haze.
The room somehow felt different, despite having been returned to the condition Severus had left it in when he'd moved into his parents' larger room years ago. After the initial realisation that she'd moved into his childhood bedroom, the day after their wedding, he'd not seen any more of it than glimpses around the door on the rare occasion that he'd needed to knock on her door. He'd certainly not had the chance it become used to seeing it filled with light an colour.
Yet somehow it had felt as though it was missing something that had certainly never been there when the room had been his. It had been stripped back to nothing, even the colour she'd charmed onto the walls had been removed, but something of her had still seemed to linger.
During its time as his own room, it had seen plenty of misery, and he'd callously emptied it of his pathetic childhood belonging in an attempt to rid himself of the accompanying memories; of cowering in the cupboard, listening to his father stamp and tell downstairs; being pulled roughly from under the bed, kicking and screaming, for a beating for being as much of a freak as his mother; lying, bruised, in his bed, his mother's face mottled and blue, as she furtively dressed his broken and bleeding nose. Yet the lingering feel of the room was not one of misery.
Her presence in the room, despite the unhappiness he had cause caused her in this house, had changed the atmosphere somehow, and instead of the echoes of his own suffering, there had been only emptiness. Severus had stood there, in his drunken despair, surveying the rooms that had once held her. The parallels between his own upbringing and her time here pricked at his conscience. He'd always strived to be nothing like his alcoholic, abusive father, but clearly he had failed.
The only difference was that Hermione had had the strength to leave him, even to the point of changing the law so that she could be free, whereas his mother had been too weak to do the same. Time and life had taught Severus to judge his mother less harshly that he had done when he was younger. He understood now how difficult it was for someone to walk away from an abusive relationship, having been witness to it in various forms, both as Head of House and amongst his fellow Deatheaters. He'd even wondered, more than once, whether growing up in such a household tended to steer young minds towards the sorts of attributes that generally landed them in his house. He certainly believed it had a fact in his own sorting, having taught him to be sneaky, resourceful and secretive, as well as making him desperate to become powerful enough to step out from under his father's shadow.
He'd realised suddenly, that there was a small difference between his father and himself, although it had provided scant comfort. Severus was sure his father had not had one single moment of regret about the way he had treated his wife and son – regret over his marriage and fathering of his freakish magical 'spawn' perhaps, but never about the way he had treated either his wife or child - while Severus seemed fated to spend his life making stupid choices and regretting them for ever.
He was the biggest fool ever. He loved her, and it had taken losing her to realise it.
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To have loved, and lost (was Missed Chances)