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The New Life	By : lilith395 Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 14592 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own anything to do with Harry Potter and I don't earn anything from these stories.

Chapter List
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A/N: I am sorry it took so long, I know I promised to have Christmas day up a week ago, but I just didn't manage. Let's just say it's been a tough, if not horrible week and I was just not in the right frame of mind to write what I consider to be a happy(-ish)XD story... There were some people missing at my Christmas table, and two nights ago at New Year's who should've been there and I guess missing them took a bit more cheer out of me than I originally anticipated... But I'm back, with my sincere apologies and, for now, two new chapters and working on number three of the day. And please understand that I do not appreciate anyone bitching at me for not posting for a week... Thank you for understanding. Now, enjoy the chapter...

Irrevocably lost...

To say that I am pissed would be an understatement. I stand in front of my bathroom mirror, downing pepper-up potion after pepper-up potion, right up to and past the ‘safe amount line’. Not that I have ever really concerned myself with such regulations, I am a hell of a lot better at judging where my line lies than any old idiot at the ministry, but I have to admit that six might’ve been a bit over doing it. I might look a little less horrible than I did a few minutes ago, but other than that, they just aren’t working. Like the calming draught, of which I had about three now, they just do not cut it today. Let me explain.

First off, I have yet to go to sleep. It’s bloody seven-thirty in the morning on Christmas bloody morning and I still have not slept. And it’s all because of that little bitch sleeping one floor down. Somewhere during the night I came to a realization and the last several hours I have been trying to come to terms with it. I have found it a lot harder to do than I had originally thought.

After she closed the door on me, again I might add, I tried to move. I tried to yell through the closed door, I tried, with all my might, to refuse, tell her no way in hell am I going to go to the Burrow for Christmas, and spend my day with any of those people. I tried to go after her to yell at her, or even to see if she had finally well and truly lost her mind, but I never made it past the door.

I must’ve stood there for the better part of an hour, cursing her, the world, and mostly myself, and trying to chuck it all up to shock, or anything of that sort, but I cannot fool myself any longer.

I, Severus Snape, the snarky potions master, formerly known as the Great Big Bat from the Dungeons, Bastard Extraordinaire, and murderous Death Eater, am unable to refuse the Gryffindor Golden Girl. I am well, truly and irrevocably, lost.

Eight arrives, with her to find me sitting at my mother’s old vanity in my room, staring at myself in horror, disgust and even a little bit of awe. So this is what love feels like. I am old and smart enough to admit, if only to myself, that I have never truly been in love before. I have only been obsessed, really. The fact that I fancied myself in love at that young an age does not make it any less of an obsession.

I must’ve heard the door open and close behind her, but, being as lost in thought as I currently am, it’s still a surprise to see her standing so close behind me in the mirror. She smiles at me, and I, my anger at myself flaring back up to full force inside of me, am unable not to smile back at her. It annoys me to no end, and I am sure that today my mood will be worse than it has been for weeks.

While she looks me over I am certain she disapproves of my choice of attire. Though I look impeccable, my robes pristine and the glamours on the bags under my eyes and the corner of my lip where I bit through it during my midnight-musings infallible, there must be something wrong with it. Though her face betrays nothing, it’s the glint in her eye which tells me so. And maybe the fact that she moves across the room and starts to rummage through my armoire.

I pull myself together and raise myself from my self-induced stupor. No matter how life-changing this thing might be, I do not need to be anyone but myself.

“What are you doing?” I bite out, and I am a little startled to find my voice is gruff from lack of sleep.

She merely smiles, while throwing a pair of muggle jeans onto my bed, and she starts rifling through my shirts with a frown on her face.

“Where is it?” she mutters, otherwise completely ignoring my presence in the room.

“Where is what?” I ask.

Again she ignores me and I’ve had it. The lack of sleep, the anger I feel at myself and the annoyance I feel at being ignored by, dare I say it, the woman I love, gods, that sounds dreadful enough to send a shiver down my spine, finally gets to me.

I push myself away from the stool and stalk over to her. Grabbing her arm, I turn her to face me, and through narrowed eyes I regard her.

“What are you doing?”

She smiles again and I wish I was in a position to hex that smile off of her. I believe everything annoys me this morning.

“Well, it’s only fair isn’t it? You got to dress me for last night, so I get to dress you for today.”

She sounds so fucking cheerful I am actually fighting down the contents of my stomach. I don’t do cheerful at all, and I don’t even do tolerable before my first cup of coffee. Which I decide might not be such a bad idea at the moment. I leave her standing in front of my armoire and practically run out of the room and down the stairs to the kitchen. She can just try to dress me without me present. Let’s see how well she does with that.

Apparently a lot better than I would have imagined. Bustling around my kitchen, trying to keep both my hands and my mind busy, trying to remember how that stupid coffee-machine thing works the muggle way, I suddenly realize something is missing. Nothing swishes or billows around me. Positively furious, I freeze, and slowly turn around to face the infuriating chit in the doorway, her wand out, and grinning like a madwoman. While I am trying to come up with something, anything, to throw at her which I wouldn’t mind breaking at the present time, she lowers her wand and moves quietly towards one of the chairs around my breakfast table. Sitting down, she grins at me again.

“Don’t ever forget who I am, Severus. I was going to go for my masters in Transfiguration before you and Minerva approached me, remember? Now, get me some coffee. We’re expected at the Burrow in about an hour for breakfast.”

Get her some coffee? GET HER SOME BLOODY COFFEE? What do I look like, A BLEEDING HOUSE-ELF?!

For a moment, I close my eyes and clench my fists at my sides, trying to quell the urge to throttle her and remain quiet. Though my hands are shaking slightly I will not let her get to me like that. I idly wonder whether that woman I bedded in September is still available. Even finding an unknown woman who could be anyone and anywhere would be less trouble than trying to deal with Hermione Granger, wouldn’t it?

Turning back to the counter, picking up my wand and opening my eyes again to spell some coffee into existence instead of bothering to do it the muggle way, I notice the cuff of the shirt she spelled on me.

So it wouldn’t. Well damn it all to hell. For the first time since the end of the war I long back to the days of Voldemort. Surely Voldemort was easier to deal with?

The green of my dress shirt, the shirt I only wear once and only three people know the existence of, me, Remus, and my mystery woman, sits against my pale wrist almost mockingly, and I just wish I could be dead, rather than to deal with any more of this crap.

At least I know one thing for certain now. Falling in love is the worst thing that could ever happen to anyone. Especially me. It just kills me I feel the sickening urge to smile somewhere deep down, instead of murdering her in cold blood, which, in my opinion, would be the logical thing to do.

A/N: Thanks for reading, please review...
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The New Life