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To have loved, and lost (was Missed Chances)	By : professorflo Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 10775 -:- 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.
- 3
- 4
- 5
Severus had made it back into the kitchen without any more mishaps, although he was now struggling not to throw up everything he’d drunk recently, having mistakenly taken a sip from a bottle of (thankfully) diluted bubotuber pus. It had been in a plain dark bottle, and he’d been so elated at having found a bottle of spirits that he’d missed he’d not even checked what it was. He couldn’t even blame her for leaving it where it might be mistaken for something drinkable. She’d asked him so many times not to leave his ingredients lying around in the kitchen, as he sometimes did when he’d just bought or collected them.

When he’d realised how much it had annoyed her he’d started doing it on purpose, at least until he’d come up from his lab to see why his dinner was late, and had found half-cooked and abandoned pans on the stove and no sign of her. It wasn’t until he spotted his freshly picked Deadlyius mushrooms that he’d left on the counter, strewn across the chopping board that he realised what she’d done. They were so similar looking to normal mushrooms it was no surprise that she’d picked them up without thinking, instead of the ones that she’d bought from the supermarket.

He’d removed them without a word to her about it, and when she’d finally reappeared and to finish cooking and serve dinner, she’d said nothing either. He’d noted how she’d tried to keep her left hand as hidden as possible as they’d eaten, but he’d spotted the redness covering her fingers and felt a slight pang of guilt about what he knew was sure to have been a nasty and painful reaction. From then on he’d done his best not to leave potions ingredients out, although he’d still forgotten on occasion. Like this time… he thought, cursing his own stupidity as he fought not to retch. He grabbed the counter to steady himself until the need to do so had passed.

Gods, his mouth tasted like a flobberworm’s arse! He needed a drink to wash away the taste of the pus. Ignoring the tap, he shakily made his way to where he’d left his bottle. He was faintly disgusted with himself for feeling proud of the fact he’d managed to pick it up and put it to his lips on the first go. The incident with the rogue bottle had clearly sobered him up slightly. He needed more, quickly, as he wasn’t yet ready to face the world without a high alcohol to blood ratio.

2 Years, 5 months earlier.

By the time the news of the marriage law had finally hit the papers Severus had been getting fed up with courting and wanted nothing more than to just get on and marry the girl. He wasn’t made out for all the niceties that came with actually wooing a woman, rather than just bedding her. All the flirting and teasing he been doing with her was just as frustrating for him as it was for her. He’d never wanked so hard and so often in his life, and she was clearly in two minds about his decision not to touch her until they were married. She wanted him, desperately, but was flattered by his gentlemanlike behaviour.

He’d been determined to wait for the law to come into force, however, as it would not only stop her from divorcing him as soon as she realised what an arse he really was, but would also guarantee him sex twice a week, even if they were barely on speaking terms, until three children had been produced. Not that there would be any. Severus had already taken care of that with an adapted dark spell that wouldn’t be traceable using the current techniques. And if, after some time, the Ministry started to question why there were no children, then he already had in mind an untraceable potion that he would be able to slip her to abort a child, making it look like a miscarriage. The Ministry was unlikely to force them to divorce if they couldn’t find any reason in either of them to stop a child being carried to full term. Severus was determined to reap all the benefits of the law, and avoid all the negatives.

Lucius had actually given him a couple of days’ warning before the law was published, and upon reflection he’d decided not to say anything to her until she came to him about it. He wanted to give the impression that he was unconcerned, that it didn’t affect him or his plans, and that it wasn’t worth a moment of his attention. But when he’d not heard from her by the next morning he’d started to grow worried. Had she guessed his scheme and decided to run out on his without a word or even an owl? By early evening of the second day he had worked himself up into a righteous fury, sure that she’d scarpered, the unfaithful cow.

When he’d turned up a few hours later at her front door he’d struggled to keep his composure. He’d wanted to be angry with her for not coming to him, but he couldn’t afford to act out the way he felt. He’d forced the emotion from his face as he banged on the door, but as it was flung open he’d not been able to prevent some of it showing. Luckily she’d misinterpreted it as worry, and when he’d risked a quick incursion into her surface thoughts he’d seen how relieved she was to see him. In the end it had turned out that she’d been worried that he would feel pressured into marrying her, and had tried to give him a bit of space.

Hermione had been fretting herself into a state since she’d seen the paper, thinking that he’d run from her. She’d recalled an old conversation between the two of them, a year or so previous, when he’d expressed an aversion to having children, and she’d assumed that he would leave the country rather than be forced to have at least three. Severus had had to do a lot of reassuring before she calmed down and began to believe him when he said he was more than prepared to adhere to the law and marry her as soon as they could arrange the wedding.

He’d even gone to the trouble of apparating back home quickly while she went to the bathroom to clear up her blotchy face, to grab the old paste diamond ring he’d found in his mother’s jewellery box. He had no idea whose it had been, but it beat spending the money on a new one, and the girl was sentimental enough that she’d loved the story he’d told her of how it had been passed down in his family for a couple of generations. He’d even gone down on one knee. She’d been ridiculously happy, of course, and he’d gone home later feeling awfully smug with himself. She’d not suspected a thing.

So the task of planning a wedding had started. Severus couldn’t really have cared less about dresses and decorations, as long as Hermione was in his bed at the end of it. His future bride wanted some time to prepare her dream celebration, even though he’d just wanted to get married as soon as possible. He would have been happy to have gone to the Ministry immediately; He’d already waited long enough. Lucius had actually managed to get the law pushed back a few weeks to give Narcissa time to arrange the lavish affair she’d had her heart set on ever since Draco had been born, and Severus wasn’t impressed that his friends’ selfishness had delayed his own ‘happy’ day by so long.

Severus had attended Draco’s wedding, although he’d absolutely hated it, thinking the whole thing ridiculously opulent and over the top – what self-respecting man would agree to such a nauseatingly pink and glittery themed wedding? What had Narcissa been thinking? Everyone else had thought the whole thing was stunning, but Severus had barely been able to touch anything in the worry that something might rub off on him. He’d almost gagged when he’d realised that both Lucius and Draco had pink incorporated into their dress robes. The former even had a ribbon in the same shade to tie back his hair. Even worse, they both seemed to rather like what they were wearing. It had only reinforced his long-held beliefs about the two of them. Lucius had always put too much thought into what he was wearing, and Draco had inherited his father’s love of his own reflection.

The whole affair had set him to worrying about his own upcoming nuptials. Merlin help him, he’d hoped Hermione wasn’t going to want anything like that. A nice simple ceremony was all he wanted, some quick vows, with the minimum amount of witnesses required, and the only celebration after being at home, in his bedroom. Women though, he understood, usually wanted far more, but he hoped that Hermione being the practical girl she was, would be easily persuaded otherwise.

Hermione had actually been invited to Draco’s wedding, but despite having forgiven the Malfoys, her memories of the Manor were still too vivid to allow her entry, even for such a celebration. So he’d taken the chance the next day when he saw her, to tell her about the grotesque display he’d been forced to attend, hoping to get some idea of what she was wanting, and to discourage any thoughts of a big wedding by declaring his abhorrence of such an idea.

Luckily Hermione had seemed to agree with him that the wedding sounded ghastly. She was generally a sensible girl, not prone to dreams of romantic nonsense or much of the juvenile silliness that most of her sex seemed to exhibit. For all her pureblood ‘sophistication’, Narcissa was actually no better than the empty-headed girls – Miss Brown came to mind, - that he’d taught or the past twenty years. It was just one way in which his Hermione showed herself to be far superior, and part of a growing list of reasons why he was glad he had managed to snare her.

Of course in the end, he’d not been able to persuade Hermione against having a small party, just a quiet dinner with the friends who had been invited to the ceremony. He’d been against even that, but had eventually agreed when she’d pointed out that they didn’t want to look like they were getting married only for the sake of the law. There had already been a large number of ‘quickie’ weddings, nothing more than a rushed and impersonal ceremony, as everyone hurried to snag the best partner they could find. The Weasley boy and Miss Brown had married a few weeks previous, as the latter was already pregnant, while Potter and Miss Weasley’s ceremony would be a few weeks after Severus’ own. Both of them had taken a while to come to terms with Hermione’s intention to marry him, although she had only let them stew for a month before harassing them into submission.

He’d seen Hermione’s point though, so he had to put up with the indignity of his bride being walked in by Potter, in front of a rather larger than he would have wished group of friends, most of whom were Hermione’s. The small contingent of Hogwarts’ teachers that had turned up had sat on his side of the hall, although he was sure they were really there for Hermione’s sake, rather than his. There had been no family on either side. His were all gone, or too distantly related for him to bother with, while hers were currently still sulking in Australia.

All of this meant that right now he was currently getting to the end of his tether with all the merriment around him. The only thing keeping him from going insane was the sight of his bride’s breasts, unbound and loose under her traditional wedding robe. He’d always suspected himself to be a masochist, but the way he’d been teasing himself with the thoughts of her, knicker-less and naked beneath the loosely fitting material was definitely a form of self-flagellation. It was taking all his self-restraint not to grab her and apparate directly to his room, especially when she reached across the table and a breast brushed against his arm.

He’d already wanked twice today, and still he felt as if he was ready to burst at the slightest touch from her. It was a couple of years since he’d admitted his attraction to her to himself, over 5 months since he had decided to have her – 5 months without the company of another woman. At least the ridiculous antics of his wife’s friends were enough of a distraction that he didn’t embarrass himself with a display of his bodily functions.

He watched with a sneer as several of the recently engorged Weasely clan started laughing at something Minerva had been quietly whispering to those around her. Something vulgar, he was sure, and no doubt aimed at himself, considering the way some of the group were stealing glances at him. The old hag may have appeared to be a dried up old prude to her students, but there was no one to match her for crudeness when she’d had a few to drink.

“Hurry up and leave, will you?” Lucius moaned in his ear. “It would be bad manners for the guests to depart so early with the bride and groom still here. You’ll force us to be rude if you don’t go soon.

Severus turned his head just far enough to make out all four of the Malfoy’s watching the mass of rowdy Gryffindors across the room with barely concealed disgust. “I agree, it’s time to leave. I can’t stand much more of this either,” he confided. “I only wanted a quick ceremony and to return straight back to Spinner’s End. But as you know just as well as I do, that it’s the appearance of it is that matters.”

Lucius muttered something incomprehensible as he turned back to Narcissa, and Severus looked back out over his guests. Most of them were well into their cups, and caught up in the spirit of the celebration. His gaze was drawn to the two that stood out; the youngest Weasely boy and his vacuous wife. The boy seemed barely aware of the merriment around him, instead alternating between scowling into his cup, nodding his head absentmindedly to whatever his wife was whispering in his ear, and glaring across the tables at Hermione.

Miss Brown – Mrs Weasely, rounder than normal with another red-headed brat growing inside her, was clearly trying to distract her husband from his sulk. Judging by the barely restrained look of fury that she was sporting, she knew exactly what his problem was, as did Severus. Hermione had told him, early in their friendship, how long it had taken Ron to get past the fact that she wasn’t interested in him, despite the single kiss they’d shared during the Battle of Hogwarts. What she hadn’t said, but what he had known for ages, was that she wasn’t interested because she had feelings for him. Severus had ascertained through snippets of conversation over the following years what Hermione being too naïve to realise for herself; that the boy had never gotten over her. He was convinced Weasely had only started seeing Miss Brown in a failed attempt to make Hermione jealous.

Smirking at his obvious distaste for the celebration, - Potter had unfortunately adjusted to the idea of his best friend marrying the dreaded dungeon bat quicker than Severus would have liked, so Severus had to get his kicks somewhere; he waited until the redhead’s gaze fell on him. When their eyes met, Severus pushed gently into his mind, seeing straight away that his suspicions about the boy’s feelings for Hermione were correct. Smug in the knowledge that he had got the girl for once, Severus quickly projected a scene back into Weasley’s mind.

As his mind filled with the image of the girl he coveted, writhing and moaning Severus’ name as he fucked her furiously, Weasely’s face turned red and splotchy. He turned away, breaking Severus’ contact with his mind, and standing so quickly he nearly knocked his wife in the face, he left the room, looking as if he was going to be sick.

Severus resisted the inane urge to poke his tongue out at the back of the retreating figure, and instead contented himself with a smirk. He glanced to his right to check that his bride hadn’t caught any of the exchange, but found her speaking in low undertones to her maid of honour, Miss Weasely, beside her. The girl was openly grinning, while Hermione’s cheeks were painted in a faint blush. When the former spotted Severus looking, she gently nudged her friend. Hermione looked round and when she realised she was being watched the colour on her cheeks deepened. Interesting… he thought. What were you talking about...? He pressed lightly into her surface thoughts, to find that the two of them had been discussing her upcoming… deflowering. Ginny had been giving her some tips, based on what she and Harry… He pulled out with a shudder. He did not need to know that about Potter.

Hermione seemed to misinterpret his grimace, for she laid a comforting hand on his arm and leaned across with a smile. “Thank you for putting up with this for me, Severus. I know you don’t like parties. I think we’ve been here long enough if you want to go now.”

The redness in her cheeks was fading, and he found himself wanting to put it back again. Her embarrassment at her own innocence he found entrancing. He stood immediately, pulling her to her feet, and slipped his arm around her to hold her tight against him.

“I’ve been wanting to be alone with you all day,” he murmured into her ear, taking care to use his voice to full effect, wanting to see her response. She blushed prettily again, the red intensifying as others began to notice and call out to them. Thank Merlin it was time to leave; the self-restraint that he had been fostering for years where his new wife was concerned was about to snap.

“If you will excuse us… I believe it is time for my wife and I to be leaving.” He felt a thrill as she tucked her face into his chest in embarrassment. He could feel her breasts pressed up against him, and the thought that he would be granted free access to them - and more - in a matter of minutes made his heart beat faster in anticipation. He tightened his arm around her waist, and to the gentle cheers and good wishes of the other guests, he apparated them straight back to his house, and to his bedroom.

He gave her no chance to get her bearings, instead, his lips quickly descended on hers. He kissed her deeply, plundering her mouth until she was breathless and shaking in his arms. He pulled away for a moment to smirk down at her, and to locate the ties on the back of her neck.

As she felt his fingers undo the ribbon she finally seemed to come to her senses, her eyes suddenly becoming focused.

“Wait Severus. Not yet…” She tried to pull his fingers away but he barely noticed, instead deftly evading her and moving onto the first of the row of buttons below, even as he reached down to kiss her again. She lost herself for a moment again, before suddenly remembering her objections and trying to push him off.

He finally realised his advances weren’t being returned, and his blood turned cold for a moment. Had she changed her mind? It would be all too easy for her to leave him if the marriage hadn’t been consummated. She had a couple of months left to find another to marry. His chest clenched at the thought. She’s mine…

“What’s the matter?” He kept his hands on her shoulders, stroking the skin there gently. “Do you not want to…?”

“That’s not it.”
She blushed again, looking away, and he couldn’t help but follow the red downwards towards her chest, now that the neckline was sagging and low.

“It’s just, I… I bought something to put on… you know, something nice. And there should be a bottle chilling somewhere…”

He laughed in relief as her words reassured his that flight was the last thing on her mind. He pulled her flush against him once more and started kissing down her now exposed neck. “I’m more concerned with getting this off,” he growled once he felt he relax a bit into his arms again.

“But… I wanted…”

Hermione trailed off as his hand came up to gently cup a breast for the first time, his thumb brushing expertly across a sensitive nipple. She shuddered delightfully in his arms, sagging slightly with the onslaught of sensations and he took the opportunity to back her slowly towards the bed.

“What I want is to get you out of this dress,” he murmured into the sweet spot behind her ear. Gods she tasted so good, he was finding it hard not to pin he straight to the bed and devour her. “Any other clothing right now would be…superfluous.” He wasn’t interested in her setting up some romantic scene. He just wanted her now. He’d waited so long, and now… now she was his.

“Sever… oh!”

She almost whimpered as the back of her legs hit the bed, and he reached around with one hand to continue undoing her buttons, using the other to continue teasing her breast with light touches. He knew she was on the verge of forgetting her silly ideas when she began to push back unconsciously into his hand, begging for a firmer touch. Finally, the last fastening in the small of her back was open, and he ran his hand back up the silk-smooth skin that was now exposed to her waist, delighted to not have a bra to contend with. He kissed her more fervently as he used both hands to start slipping the straps of the dress down her arms.

“I’ve wanted you for so long. I need you now… wife,” Severus whispered against her lips as he carried her down gently to the bed.
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To have loved, and lost (was Missed Chances)