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And They Didn\'t Live Happily Ever After	By : ElizabethStump Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 90306 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 50
- 51
- 52
“And They Didn't Live Happily Ever After”
Chapter Fifty
“Waiting For the Gods of Weather to Smile”

Disclaimer: All characters, concepts, and locations are owned or inspired J.K. Rowling. I'm just borrowing them for a bit before returning them to their rightful owner. I just hope Miss Jo doesn't ask why she can't wipe that smile off of Snape's face.

============

While staring at Ron's pillow, Hermione had a hard time remembering how she had made it to bed the night before. It took her a moment of hard concentration before she could remember the events that took place after having spied Ron leaving Blaise Zabini's place – after what they surmised had been a wonderful shag from all the animalistic yowling that she and Severus had overheard.
Severus had caught her before she hit the floor as her legs gave away. The rest of the night, she watched herself go through the motions as if she was observing as an outsider would, while she felt completely disconnected from reality.

'Ron is shagging another wizard.'

Hermione had had her suspicions that Ron may have been fooling around, but never would she have guessed it was with another man. Part of Hermione's mind kept trying to tell her that she was having an affair with another man too, but that only seemed to make the situation worse in her mind.

Severus gently walked a shell-shocked Hermione over to the Transfigured comfy couch and brought her tea. He would have offered her something stronger, but what he hadn’t drunk the night before had been banished by Draco that morning. Her hands shook worse than the first night she had come to visit Severus with her moral quandary of whether to tell or not tell Harry about Ginny's infidelities.

'Ron is shagging another wizard.'

That phrase kept repeating in her mind over and over. Hermione might have even said it aloud. If she did, Severus never made comment of it. After a few cups of calming tea, and a chance to gather her wits and regain her legs, Hermione left. As he walked her down the two flights of stairs to the Floo point, his arm wrapped firmly around her waist in case her legs went out on her again, Hermione had suddenly realized Severus had somehow placed two vials of a sleeping draught into her hand earlier. She vaguely recalled his instructions that this would help her to sleep peacefully.

Severus was the one that called out the Floo destination for the Ministry, gently reminding her that she had a flame burning under a failed experiment simmering away that needed to be extinguished. Hermione nodded dumbly, acknowledging that she heard and understood what he was saying, but the glassy and far-off look in her eyes made Severus mention accompanying her to the Ministry to make sure she got there all right and home safely. It was then that she came around to her senses and insisted Severus stay behind, and that she would be fine. There was a tender and sympathetic kiss from him before he sent her off.

The Ministry was dark, lit by only a few candles and braziers. Her heels clicked and clacked, ominously echoing down the government-issued beige-gray tile floor and grayish-beige walls. Sure enough, Hermione reached the lab and found that the sample of Ron's supplement was nearly evaporated, and in a few more hours would have begun to smoke. Her mind still whirling from the shock of learning that Ron was screwing around with another man, she extinguished the flame and left, then locked up out of habit.

The walk back to the Floo point in the Ministry's atrium was completely unmemorable. She couldn't recall the trip via Floo back to her own flat. What she did remember was stepping out of her fireplace to see Ron lying there on the couch stretched out, reading a magazine.

“There you are. I was beginning to worry about where you were. It's late.” Ron rose from the couch to greet her.

It took all of Hermione's will not to cringe from his touch. She wanted to yell at him, call him a traitor, a liar, a snake, a wanker, a bloody whore, a sadistic bastard, and a slew of other names. Instead she held her tongue, biting down on it until she could taste blood. How she managed not to look at him with abject hatred and loathing, she didn't know, as those emotions were certainly roiling within her as he went over to give her a hug, welcoming her back.

Remembering that Severus had used the truth to cover the truth, she said blankly, “I forgot I left a potion simmering at work. I just remembered and went back to turn the flame off.”

Ron made some comment, which she did not hear since all sound had become strangely muffled, as the shock she was experiencing was setting in. Hermione didn't know what Ron was saying, but he was standing by the doorway, holding out his hand inviting her to come to bed. The idea of sleeping in the same bed as that man, who had been doing who-knows-what with Blaise Zabini not hours ago, made her stomach churn.

“I'm just going to sit on the couch for a moment before coming to bed,” she announced blandly.

'Ron is shagging another wizard.'

Another woman Hermione could deal with, even stomach, but another man?

Staring at the cold fireplace, Hermione wondered if she was so inadequate in bed that she drove Ron to seek another wizard for his sexual needs. Was he bi? Or was he gay, just pretending to prefer witches? Just thinking about it on top of the shock she was still feeling made her mind reel. Shock, compounded with the exhaustion of not sleeping the night before, overwhelmed her as she felt the room begin to spin.

Sleep. Hermione just wanted to sleep and forget everything that had occurred within the past hour. A part of her wished she had agreed to stay the night with Severus so that she would not have witnessed what she had, and she would have remained blissfully ignorant of the fact that her husband was shagging another man.

Sitting on the couch, she downed the contents of one vial and black dreamlessness overtook her.
Ron's pillow had not moved as she laid there gazing at the warp and weft of cotton threads, finally recalling last night's events. It still didn't explain why she was in her nightgown and in her bed.

There was movement on her peripheral vision that caught her attention. Rolling onto her back, she discovered a piece of paper hovering over her head, fluttering about, trying to get her attention. She snatched it out of the air and read it.

-------

Hey, sleepy head! You fell asleep on the couch last night, so I carried you back to bed. Whatever was in that potion you took was powerful stuff, you didn't stir once.

You seemed pretty tired last night anyway, so I let you sleep in. Don't forget after the game we have Percy's birthday party to go to. Did you get him anything? I know we didn't get around to discussing a gift, but you're good at picking out those sorts of things, so anything you buy should be fine.

I'm expecting an owl from Viktor regarding his agent. I left early this morning for a workout before the game, so there might be an owl waiting for you when you get up.

See you at the game.

Ron

-------

The tears finally came. Hermione wailed, balled, and screamed, punching her pillow and kicking her feet against the bed, feeling both betrayed and humiliated. All the indifference that Hermione had been feeling towards her husband metamorphosed into unadulterated rage. She knew it was hypocritical of her to hate Ron for cheating on her, as she was guilty of the same transgression, but it didn't stop her from feeling the way she did. What was insulting to her was that Ron was with another wizard, a SLYTHERIN and DEATH EATER, of all people. Hermione was equally guilty of those accounts too, having fallen in love with the quintessential Slytherin and a reformed Death Eater; however, for all of Ron's “Slytherins are all a bunch of untrustworthy Dark wizards” rhetoric and macho posturing, it seems he was the biggest hypocrite and liar in her eyes.

Hermione knew she could never confront Ron about her discovery, as that would shed light on how and when she discovered her husband's secret, namely Zabini. If that was the first time Ron had gone there, that would certainly place her at the Red Ginseng on that night. There were several things she wanted to know, but would probably never learn unless Ron flat out confessed: Does he shag wizards other than Zabini? Other witches, too? How long has this been going on? Before they were married? Ron had said she was his first. Was Hermione his first lover, or first witch?

She didn't know how long she lay there, crying and howling, and feeling as if what little dignity she had left in her life had been shredded and destroyed. Everything that had anchored Hermione's life had been taken away, and she felt cast adrift, a victim to the tides of circumstance. Her high morals regarding love and marriage had been compromised with the realization that she had never truly loved Ron like she should, and was willingly sleeping with Severus with no remorse. The esteem of those she knew and thought she had trusted had been shaken to the core, especially concerning those that she considered the remaining leaders of the Order. The only things that kept Hermione from being swept into a maelstrom of confusion and deep depression were her love of Severus and the promise of a Potions apprenticeship.

Hermione knew she could not lie in bed all day, skipping Ron's game and Percy's party, as Ron would know something was wrong. Confronted on the matter of if she was all right, Hermione wasn't sure she could hold together without screaming at the prat she was married to that she knew everything and had never been so insulted, mortified, and disgusted in her life. She had nothing against gay people or what they did in the privacy of their own homes, it was just the thought of Ron shoving his cock up some other wizard's arse, or letting some wizard do that to him, that made her stomach roil. He was her husband. She didn't even want to imagine Ron kissing another wizard.

As she hauled herself out of bed – noting how very sore she was in certain places from all that overexertion the previous night – and into the kitchen, it finally struck Hermione that if Ron saw Blaise Zabini, that would mean that Lavender had to have a hand in setting him up with the gigolo one floor up from Severus' flat. Hermione knew she had no right to ask about what Ron was doing with Zabini, any more than Ron asking about what Hermione was up to with Severus if he ever found out about her own visits to the Red Ginseng. Lavender was in a business that required discretion, so Hermione knew it would be pointless to grill her about how long Ron had been visiting Zabini, or any other wizards in her employ. Part of Hermione wanted to throttle the well-coiffed blond witch, wrapping her hands around her neck while she squeezed and shook Lavender violently, but she also knew it was Lavender's doing that paired her up with Severus and bringing her the greatest joy in what seemed like years, and the best sex she had ever had.

If she had to pick the choice of living her life with a faithful husband, a loveless marriage, and bad sex for the rest of her life, or living with the knowledge Ron fucked around on her with other men, while she was experiencing passionate love and mind blowing sex with Severus, she would have to concede she'd rather have the latter. Hermione had been withering away under the pressures of a dull and listless life. These past weeks with Severus had brought a fire back into her soul she thought had been extinguished under relentless mediocrity.

Two owls sitting upon the kitchen windowsill kept Hermione from sinking into another bout of mind-numbing introspection and endless postulation. The larger of the two owls muscled its way past the smaller one, who Hermione recognized as her parents’ owl, Maxwell.

“All right, all right,” she conceded, taking the letter from the larger owl. “I'll get to you both. Don't worry, I have plenty of owl treats for you both.” She threw an owl treat to Maxwell in consolation for being bullied by the larger bird. Pigwidgeon began to chirp madly, demanding he get an owl treat, as well. “You too, Pig.” The tiny owl was mollified as it dove into the tray she set out for the trio of birds.

After retrieving the second letter, Hermione made some tea to steady her nerves before having the fortitude to bother with Owl Post. Finally settled down with some tea, Hermione opened the letter from her parents first. Two tickets fell out of the folded-up letter and into her lap. She set the tickets aside while she read.

-------

Hello Hermione,

Your father and I had tickets to see “Of Mice and Men” tonight at the Savoy, but our neighbor, Mrs. Jenkins, broke her leg in the front yard early this morning. Your father took her to hospital, and we'll be taking care of her tonight until her daughter can come down from Carlisle tomorrow morning and help her out.

So we have two tickets that we thought we'd offer to you and Ron first. I've enclosed them with the letter I sent with you. If you can't accept them, just send them back with Maxwell, and I'll give them to Mr. and Mrs. Robinson down the street.

All our love,

Mum & Dad

-------

Hermione felt so sorry for poor Mrs. Jenkins. The elderly widow had no one living at home anymore to help her, so she was lucky that Hermione's parents could help her until her daughter arrived to help. Going into her private stash of stationery she kept hidden from Ron so he wouldn't pilfer it while answering his fan mail, which fortunately was being delivered to the Chudley Cannons club headquarters instead of their home now, she grabbed a sheaf of parchment. She penned a quick reply that she couldn't accept the tickets for tonight due to a prior Weasley family obligation, but thanked them and hoped that next time she could use the tickets. After folding the tickets up inside the letter, she gave it to Maxwell, who took off quickly, understanding the timeliness of his errand.

The letter delivered by the larger owl was from Viktor. It contained information about Viktor's agent, fees, and contact information, as well as advice on how to best deal with the wizard. At the end of the letter was a short missive to say hello to Hermione for him. Hermione groaned and lightly thumped her head on the kitchen table, suddenly remembering she had promised to write Viktor a letter. Hermione knew there was no time now to compose a letter to her old friend and decided to bring ink, quill and parchment with her to the game. Besides, she didn't think she could stomach the sight of her husband at the moment, and figured keeping her nose down might be a good way to keep from having to look upon him.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

'I really wish Hermione would gain a few pounds,' Severus groaned internally, noting the rather bruised sensation along both hip bones. He made a promise that unless she put some weight on, shagging her in a missionary position with her legs down was not an option. Banging hip bones was high on his priority list of things to avoid.

As he practically hobbled to the bathroom to relieve himself, Severus definitely knew that the seventy-hour brewed batch of the male enhancement potion was only meant for those who were very young, and very physically fit. When he saw Hermione on Sunday, he would try the fifty-hour version, or Draco would have to use a Mobilicorpus to get him to work Monday morning.

Fortunately, Marf did not have the day off this time. Severus could have the house-elf fix breakfast while he slumped over his tea, debating if he should take an Invigoration Draught, or crawl back into bed and sleep away the rest of the morning, which was almost gone anyway.

Though his body was tired, his mind was not. After giving the weekly shopping list to Marf, Severus finished his breakfast while feeling excitement pulsing through his tired veins. His freedom was now going to be a reality instead of some convoluted strategy with indeterminate factors. Most everything was set with nothing too ambiguous left to plan. The only hitch was the fluxweed. He remembered Albert Dobmeir's offer to help him in any way, but he was hesitant to use Albert unless there were no more fluxweed shipments for the rest of the year, and there was no guarantee that the elder Potions master had any in his stores. There was one avenue he could explore, but he would have to word his letter carefully to Katherine Bigelow.

Then, there was Hermione's apprenticeship as well. Severus was very pleased at how events had turned out, and that she would have something to look forward to instead of a lifetime stuck in the Department of S&R. The way her face lit up, and the way she expressed her gratitude, was a greater reward than he could have imagined. It was not only the right thing to do, but it made him feel good inside, something he hadn't felt in a long time. And the best part was that he did not have to use her apprenticeship as bribery to make her agree to give him the restricted Polyjuice Potion ingredients.

Suddenly anxious, Severus decided that it was best if he went into work and kept busy instead of sitting around his flat all day thinking and rethinking about his upcoming escape. He could have thought about his time with Hermione, and the many different ways he’d had her time and time again, but that would only arouse him and he wasn't feeling like a wank this morning, as his balls were still aching.

It was nice to Floo directly to Lovely Lavender's headquarters instead of having to avoid people on the street. With none of the office house-elves, Miss Brown, or Draco around, the office was quieter than usual. Most of the house-elves were still busy on the production floor making cauldrons full of beauty products, but as the only one in the offices, Severus enjoyed guaranteed peace and lack of interruptions.

There was the temporary hair dye problem he still had to finish solving, as he had been interrupted Thursday, and Friday he’d been too tired to do anything but drink tea, nap, and mope all day. But first, he pulled out the letter from Katherine Bigelow.

He’d had the occasional owl from her since her relocation to Spain, her letters filled with a few questions about local Spanish customs, and ideas for a few exports to Britain, since she still had so many distribution contacts there. The past three letters expressed concern about making enough money the first year. Expenses were far more than what she had anticipated, as the Spanish Ministry of Magic seemed keen on coming up with a few extra fees that, in very plain terms, amounted to extortion. Katherine was seeking counsel from Sebastian Delgado, Severus' alias, for some plants she could grow in Spain that were in short supply in apothecaries, as she too had been reading the trades on the devastating rains in the eastern United States.

Severus didn't know why he hadn’t thought of it last night, but counseling Katherine to grow fluxweed was certainly a viable option once the initial panic of the situation wore off. He had not been thinking very clearly last night, as the male enhancement potion had placed his brains squarely between his legs, in addition to the post-shag exhaustion.

Though fluxweed is an annual, he knew that due to the southern latitude of Spain, she would be able to get three good months of growth in before harvest, the growing season even going well into December. The only thing was, could Katherine even obtain the seeds to grow any?

After a quick check with the latest Potion ingredient trade papers, Severus wrote a letter to Katherine recommending plants to grow with a quick harvest schedule that were currently scarce or would be in the near future, including fluxweed on the list. Fluxweed could probably, in ideal growing conditions, provide the first crop in a little over two months. He also recommended sending an Owl to one of the major apothecaries in Diagon Alley for their latest price list to see what was out of stock and what was fetching a rather high price. He also recommended growing wild ginseng, as large specimens fetched astronomical prices, but that would require leaving the plants undisturbed for the next ten years before harvesting.

The next few hours were spent retracing his steps to the point of epiphany – to resolve the filmy issue from the temporary hair dye – before he’d been so rudely interrupted with the surprise inspection.

As Severus stood and scanned his library for a particular book, his eye caught sight of, A Potions Apprentice's Guide to Master-level Techniques. Picking it up, he passed a reverent hand over the cover, remembering when he purchased it just before he had begun his own apprenticeship. Instead of putting it back, he set it aside and began pulling out other books Hermione might find useful in preparation of her apprenticeship.

'I could give her a head start on her apprenticeship, since it's only a matter of waiting until I can leave before she can begin under Dobmeir,' Severus thought sensibly.

He started pulling down several advanced-level reference books, including, Catalysts and Their Combinations, Basic Bases and Simple Solutions, and Potion Analysis and Retrograde Potions Theory. Over his many hours of conversation with Hermione, he knew there was little about ingredients she had left to learn, having worked in her job long enough to have nearly the same level of expertise as a Potions master. It was Potions theory and brewing, Herbology experience of tending a Potions master's garden, anatomy, code of ethics, and five languages she still had to master.

When he had set aside a sizable stack of primers essential to the master-level of Potions work, he went back to his task of improving the temporary hair dye. It wasn't so much concern over loaning some of his precious books that made him periodically stop working to regard the teetering tower of tomes, but something akin to nurturing and the anticipation of Hermione's reaction when he loaned her his books that made him smile to himself, and then go back to his work.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

She couldn't look at Ron. Every time Hermione lifted her head up and spied her husband by the Chudley Cannons goal posts, the chaotic emotional turmoil inside of her would begin burning once more. So instead of subjecting herself to any more unpleasantness, she kept her eyes fixed on the letter she was writing to Viktor. To keep prying eyes, namely Christy and Nicole, from reading over her shoulder, Hermione placed an Obfuscation Charm on it so that only she could read it and it would appear as unintelligible blurred lines to anyone else.

Occasionally, the game announcer would talk excitedly over the roar of the crowd during a thrilling play, in which case Hermione would look up, and inevitably her eyes would travel over to Ron. The announcer made the comment about Weasley flying exceptionally well, and Hermione could not help but snidely think that maybe it was because Blaise had shoved an additional broom up Ron's arse, thereby helping him fly better that day.

Spying the letters on the back of Ron's jersey, Hermione had the most irresistible urge to Charm the letters to say something else.

'W-A-N-K-E-R. Yeah, that's a good one. Wonder how long it would take for anyone to notice it.'

To amuse herself, when Hermione wasn't concentrating on her letter to Viktor, she began thinking of other things to Charm on the back of Ron's jersey, including: Whore-sley, Poofter, Arse Pirate, Rump Roger, Crack Crammer, Bugger Boy, Fuck Face, Sausage Jockey, Sluttykins, Tramp-oline, and Bludger Bat Bitch. If it wasn't for the fact that all the other players' wives were sitting around her, and it was a stiff penalty fine to cast spells on players during a Quidditch game, she would have cast at least one new nickname to flash on Ron's back.

It was taking so long for the Snitch to show up, Hermione had finished her lengthy letter to Viktor detailing her evening at the Grand Royal Supper Club, and everything that had happened in her life since the end of the war. Sitting there with more blank parchment on her lap, she was tempted to write a letter to Severus, but what could she say that she couldn't say to him in person? Somehow, Hermione didn't think that Severus would be the sort to swoon over receiving love letters, and she wasn't in the habit of keeping a diary. She could write them for the sake of putting her thoughts to paper, but if anyone ever discovered them, it would likely lead to an ending worthy of a Greek tragedy. And though Hermione was well versed in Muggle and wizard literature, she was not one to write poetry either.

Instead she began writing out a shopping list, since she didn't have a chance to go to the farmers' market earlier that day. Hermione had been barely able to get a present for Percy before rushing off to the game. Her trip had been made even quicker knowing that Percy had a fondness for eagle quills, so she didn't have to spend any time browsing around for ideas. It was while she was working on a list of long-put off chores around the flat that a great cheer erupted, signaling that someone had caught the Snitch. The Cannons' Seeker, Wally Bristol, made a victory lap around the pitch, holding the golden orb aloft for all to see.

Not wanting to get caught in the rush of the crowd waiting for the ritual end-of-game handshake or fight between teams, Hermione made polite farewells to the other Quidditch players’ wives, and made her way towards an exit. Just before Hermione descended the stairs, she looked up and saw Ron give a friendly pat on William Kidd's bottom.

The bile in Hermione's throat rose up as she wondered if William was bisexual too, and if they did things to each other in the locker room that her mind did not want to imagine.

She did not want to wait for Ron to emerge from the locker room before departing for the Burrow; Hermione wanted to go ahead and avoid her husband at all costs. The other wives finally filed down and waited like good little witches for their husbands to emerge freshly washed, and fawned over by the reporters who covered the game. Hermione kept herself preoccupied thinking about all the things she would learn during her apprenticeship under Potions master Dobmeir, but then reality set in: her future boss would be Lavender Brown, who just happened to set Ron up with Zabini. Or maybe Zabini wore a mask like Severus did and hid his Dark Mark, and Ron just wanted a random shag with some black bloke. She did not want to be thinking about these things again shortly before Ron would emerge from the locker room, only to have her resolve tested not to deck him in front of all the reporters, calling him an unfaithful poofter.

Other than the time she saw Ron descend the stairs from Zabini's flat, she had no other conclusive proof that Ron was unfaithful to her, and with another wizard. If she had one other shred of evidence, she'd use it to leave her husband in a heartbeat. There was the time when he was confronted by Harry over dinner as to where Ron went during that week he was gone, but other than his evasive answer that he was staying with a friend, there was no proof of his infidelities. It could have been only one time with another wizard, and she just had sod's law luck to be there when he left. Who knew?

Ron emerged from the locker room smiling and talking with William, and Hermione could only dread Ron saying that they had been invited to another insipid dinner party. They only made the briefest of eye contact before Hermione looked away, repulsed by Ron. She tried to keep her features schooled, feigning a headache to explain the grimace on her face.

“Did you see that Quaffle I caught, barely hanging onto my broom?” Ron asked excitedly, noticing Hermione's pensive mood.

“Not really. I've had a headache for most of the game, and the sun was bothering me.”

“Which is why you had your head buried in some papers on your lap during the game,” Ron retorted a bit shortly.

Hermione closed her eyes and decided she didn't feel like an argument, no matter how much her pride demanded her to stand up and verbally eviscerate the bastard. “We should go over to the Burrow now, as Percy's party will have started by now,” she deflected.

Ron had no reply, and they both walked silently to the Apparition point near the stadium.
The party was in full swing by the time Hermione and Ron arrived. After Hermione handed Percy his gift, Ron pulled her aside and asked what they had gotten his brother. Hermione could only roll her eyes, and stop herself from demanding her husband take his filthy hands off of her.

“You'll find out when he opens it,” she growled at him irritably.

Ron let go of his wife as if the mere touch of her burnt his hands. Figuring she was sore again over their departure from one another on their anniversary night, he did not retort and headed out the door to see if a pick-up game of Quidditch had been started yet.

Hermione headed towards the kitchen for something to drink. Earlier that day she made a promise not to touch anything with alcohol, as she had finally noticed she made a nasty habit of doing foolish things under the influence while she was suffering from stress at the same time.

In the kitchen she found Ginny with a cool glass of water in her hand, easily talking with someone. As Hermione rounded the fireplace, she saw the redheaded witch talking to Harry. Hermione froze in her tracks and momentarily gaped, feeling panic rise in her chest, as if she had been caught.

'Breathe, Hermione! Dammit, breathe!'

Suddenly images of Harry cornering and confronting her about her sudden appearance at the Red Ginseng Thursday night flooded her mind. Knowing she was standing there like a fool, she recovered by saying, “Oh, Harry! I thought you'd be outside. Ron went out there, probably looking for you.”

“Really? Okay, he must want to start up a quick game. Thanks.” Harry gave Hermione a quick welcoming hug before going out the kitchen door to look for Ron.

Once Harry was gone, Hermione collapsed against the kitchen cabinets, bracing her hands on the scrubbed wooden counter, trying to catch her breath. She closed her eyes and willed her knees to become solid once more, and to stop from shaking. 'God, I hope I wasn't transparent.'

Sensing her friend's distress, Ginny walked over and placed a supportive hand on the older witch's back. “You all right, Hermione?”

She whispered urgently, “No, we need to talk. Now.”

Knowing that the kitchen was no place for a private conversation, going outside would run the risk of intrusion, and bedrooms could be disturbed by people looking for you, Ginny urged Hermione to follow her with a jerk of the head. The two slipped up the back stairs to the attic, which was still overly warm from the summer heat.

Once the door was secured with an Imperturbable Charm, Ginny spun around and asked in equal amount of anxiousness and concern, “What the hell is wrong?” She could clearly see the signs of distress in Hermione's drawn face.

Hermione, glaring at Ginny, flatly said, “You can cut the ignorance act. I know you know about me visiting Severus, for starters.”

Ginny laughed and relaxed visibly. After doing a couple quick spells to remove the dust and a Cushioning Charm, she sat down on the attic floor. “So, you're willing to admit you're visiting him then?”

Ignoring the dust on the arched-top chest, Hermione sat down, oblivious to the large swath of gray filth now smudged across her bottom. With an exasperated sigh, she admitted, “Yes. After Ron left me at the Grand Royal Supper Club–”

“What?!” interrupted Ginny hotly. “What do you mean he ‘left’ you there?”

Knowing that if she didn't explain quickly and simply, Ginny was going to confront Ron on the matter, Hermione gave Ginny a breakdown of events, including his refusal of her sexual advances, as ammunition for more information yet to come.

“So, after Viktor walked you to the carriage,” Ginny said, “you went straight home.”

“Not exactly,” Hermione confessed. This time, Hermione gave her friend a very pared down version of her encounter with Severus, and finished her tale by mumbling, “ThenwekissedandIranaway.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“We kissed.”

“I gathered that,” Ginny replied dryly. “What's this about running away?”

“I don't want to go into it.” Hermione buried her face in her hands, unable to look at Ginny, wondering if she would be furious for her sort of cheating on Ron.

“You have to see Severus as soon as possible. You just can't leave him like that, running away like that!” Ginny pointed out, panic rising in her voice.

“I saw him last night.” Hermione looked up to see Ginny's face shining with hope. “We talked.” 'We did a lot more than talk last night.' “I will help get the ingredients, so you can stop pretending like you don't know about everything.” Hermione began to wonder if Ginny's tolerance for her seeing Severus was more out of a need for her to get the Polyjuice ingredients, rather than empathy over a loveless marriage.

Ginny's face broke out into a beaming smile as she rushed to embrace Hermione. The younger witch crushed her friend in a fierce hug as waves of tears overcame her. Overwhelming relief and joy filled Ginny's heart, and it felt like a weighty burden had been lifted from her shoulders. “Oh God, Hermione,” she wailed. “I can't tell you how long Draco and I have waited. I can't tell you how happy you've made us.”

Sensing Hermione was not sharing in her happiness, Ginny pulled back and, after wiping away a few tears and blowing her nose on a conjured handkerchief, asked, “What are you not telling me? There's something else, isn't there?”

Hermione nodded dumbly, wondering how Ginny would take the news. “Last night as I was leaving Severus' flat, guess who I saw coming downstairs from Blaise Zabini's flat?”

Propping her chin on her hands, eager for a juicy piece of gossip, Ginny asked excitedly, “Who?”

Hermione turned her face away in shame of what she was about to tell her friend and sister-in-law. Memories of the smug look on Ron's face, as he tucked his shirt in, came back to the forefront of Hermione's mind. She wanted nothing more than to destroy him at the moment. “Ron.”

“Ron who?” Ginny asked dumbly.

“Your brother, my husband, the redheaded wanker that has made my life hell being married to him. Ronald Bilius Weasley, that's who!” she bit out with all the vitriol that had been building up inside of her during the day. Burying her face in her hands, she wept listlessly, “Oh God! What did I do to drive him into the arms of another... wizard.” Just saying it aloud with revulsion made it sound just as horrid as the situation seemed.

Bowled over by this revelation, Ginny just sat there in silence. Finally, she said, “Are you sure?”

“Of course, I'm sure!” Hermione yelled defensively. “I saw his fucking smug face just outside of Severus' door. He stopped and tucked his shirt in. Severus and I heard him howling all night long, telling Zabini to 'take it like a dirty bitch' while he shagged him like a madman! No wonder he calls me a lousy lay. How can I compare to the talent of a gigolo who can give him head or take it up the arse all night long?” Hermione was assaulted with more random thoughts of Severus fucking other witches, possibly hundreds as he had earlier confessed, in his bed, the very same bed she had laid in last night. Suddenly, Hermione felt very dirty, and believed that no amount of caustic cleaning solutions or hot showers would ever get her clean again.

Ginny could not believe that Ron was gay. Not her brother. Before she could stop herself, she said tentatively, “Well...”

Hermione’s head snapped around and she fixed Ginny with a wild look. “Well, what? What? You knew?”

“No! God, no! It's just that... No. That would mean that... No. Forget it,” Ginny insisted, but knew Hermione would not let the matter rest.

“Tell me.” It was not a request or a plea; it was a demand.

A blush crept up Ginny's neck until it reached her ears. “I promised Harry I wouldn't tell, but fortunately he passed out before he made me take a wand oath.” Hermione nodded her head that she understood, urging her friend to keep spilling her secret. “You know how Harry is when he gets really drunk.” Both witches laughed, knowing that Harry, if plied with enough alcohol, would tell his friends any and everything. “Well, one time we got really drunk and Harry wanted to know if I had ever done anything with my dorm mates.”

Hermione thought deeply for a moment before comprehension dawned across her face. “You don't mean...”

“Yes, that's exactly what I mean.”

Snorting with disgust, Hermione added, “What is it with guys getting off on girls doing each other?”

“I don't know, but Harry asked if I ever did anything with my dorm mates: kissing, touching. I won't go into all the things he asked. So I told about how my roommates and I were comparing breasts when they started growing and such.”

Hermione felt deeply embarrassed by this news, as she hadn't even felt comfortable getting undressed with Lavender and Parvati in the same room watching.

“So,” Ginny continued with her tale, “I asked Harry if he and his dorm mates compared... well, you know.” They both laughed nervously. “And Harry said, 'Not exactly.' Then I asked him to explain and he told me about this time during his fourth year that he, Ron, Neville, Dean, and Seamus got into this contest.”

“For what? The biggest hard-on?” Hermione guessed correctly.

“Yes, and more.” Ginny started tittering and giggling. “For who could come the fastest.”

Sputtering in surprise, Hermione asked, “Are you serious?!”

Nodding emphatically, the young witch squeaked, “Yes!”

“Oh my God.” Hermione shook her head and could not expunge the vision of five fourteen-year-old boys wanking off.

“This is the best part,” Ginny said, trying not to laugh. “There were prizes.” Both witches disintegrated into laughter. In between gulps of air, Ginny went on, “Zonko's jokes and Honeydukes sweets to who had the biggest one, and then they all sat in a circle and started jerking off so they could make sure no one cheated. And then.... and then...” Ginny's voice rose in pitch and she tried to contain her laughter. “The grand prize to whoever shot the farthest!”

Hermione's stomach ached, and Ginny had tears coming out of her eyes. Mrs. Weasley needed to laugh, for the only other option available was to cry bitterly.

“So, I know Harry has never even remotely done anything with another wizard beyond that little competition. I don't know what else to say, Hermione. I would have never guessed... Blaise Zabini?” Ginny said, her disbelief hanging about like some ghostly manifestation in the room.

The older witch nodded somberly, brought back to the reality of the situation.

“I'm so sorry, Hermione.” Ginny stood and walked over to give her friend a consolatory hug.

The other thing niggling in the back of Hermione's mind begged for dominance. “Ginny? Did Harry say what he was doing Thursday night at work?” She prayed Harry had told Ginny where he was working.

“Yeah, there was this murder case he came upon. Shook him up pretty bad. He was pretty quiet over breakfast; said he had a lot on his mind after what he saw.” Mrs. Potter frowned to herself.

'If Harry was busy with a murder case, then maybe it was another Auror who watched the building.' This thought unsettled Hermione even more. Perhaps it was only a matter of a few days before Alastor Moody or Kingsley called her into their office to ask why she had gone to the Red Ginseng last Thursday night. Remembering two other things she needed to discuss with Ginny, she blurted out, “There is a Floo point at the Red Ginseng.”

“Really? When did they connect it?” Ginny asked.

Hermione filled Ginny in on the details of the new Floo connection, and Severus' idea for dinner for all four of them Sunday afternoon, along with the rehearsed lie of the two witches going shopping all day. Mrs. Weasley left out the part about spending time with Severus testing out another batch of the Male Enhancement Potion. She was keenly aware that Ginny would probably correctly surmise that she and Severus had been intimate, if she hadn’t guessed it already. There was no point in bringing the issue up.

Knowing that if they did not emerge soon people would come looking for them, the pair finally left the attic just as small children were sent forth by their grandmother to call everyone to dinner.

A long table was set up in the back garden, making use of the last of summer's glorious days. It had rained that morning. The sun warmed the damp earth creating a muggy atmosphere that was only kept at bay by the freely flowing pumpkin juice, and shade from the pergola draped with rambling roses giving one last vibrant show of summer's bounty. Under the honey-scented blossoms of pale gold, peach and pink the Weasley clan ate and drank amid the chatter of several conversations going on at once.

Hermione sat between Ginny and George, as Ron had sat down across from his wife. This might have seemed odd if it weren't for the fact that Michael, Bill and Fleur's oldest, begged his Uncle Ron to sit next to him. Michael kept asking his uncle if he could get tickets to the next Chudley Cannons’ game. Bill and Fleur mentioned that since Harry, Ginny, and Hermione had taken the kids to the game while Fleur was recovering from childbirth three weeks ago, Quidditch had been all that Michael could talk about. Ron was attentive and explained several aspects of the game in clear and simple terms that a five-year-old could understand without talking down to him. Were it not for the fact that Hermione was currently pissed beyond all reason at her husband, she would have found it endearing to watch the exchange. Instead, she spent most of the meal talking with Ginny before casually bringing up her so-called idea to go shopping the next day.

As the meal started winding down, George nudged Hermione conspiratorially. “So. Have you given any consideration to that career opportunity we discussed last month?”

For a moment, Hermione had no idea what George was talking about until she remembered his offer to run the “adult novelty” store he mentioned. “Oh!” Taking a second to gather her thoughts, she replied, “Well, erm. Actually, something else has come up.”

“You got another job?” George asked, surprised Ron hadn't made mention of it during the family Quidditch game earlier.

“Not exactly.” Hermione hemmed and hawed.

“What then?” Fred piped up from across the table, sitting a few seats down from Michael and Ron.

Cornered, Hermione realized she hadn't thought about how she would announce her pending appointment, so she decided to keep it brief, but truthful. “I think I may have an apprenticeship coming up.”

“What?!” chorused Harry, Ron, and Ginny at the same time.

Ginny furrowed her brow and nudged Hermione with her arm, wondering why her friend had forgotten to inform her of that detail.

Giving a half-shrug of apology, she said, “I just found out... last night.” Ron gave her a quizzical look, and she suddenly realized she was caught in a quickly disintegrating lie, and had to lie a little, and believably, or the jig would be up. Looking to Ron sheepishly, she added, “I had a meeting last night and I didn't want to get anyone's hopes up except mine. I really didn't want to say anything until my plans are more, um, solid.” She gave him her best awkward grin, and he seemed to buy it completely. “I was so distracted by my upcoming meeting that I left an experiment simmering at work.”

Hermione gave herself a small pat on the back for the quick recovery to explain her late return home last night. If she could have, she would have let out a huge sigh of relief. As it was, she was too nervous to relax just yet, and felt her knees begin to tremble from the adrenaline rush of fear. She prayed that she could keep the lie going with more half-truths while not digging herself any more holes to fall through. It seemed the scope of her lie only increased with each word uttered. She decided to stick with as much truth as she could in order to reduce the number of lies she had to remember.

Bill, who was in conversation with Arthur, stopped and turned a brightened face to his sister-in-law. “What type of apprenticeship?”

“Potions, actually.” Hermione hoped that would end the matter and other topics would dominate the table, but this was not the case. More people stopped their conversations and paid attention to this latest bit of news until just about the whole table was listening to Hermione's every word.

Jostling her newborn into her other arm, Fleur asked, “Aren't you a bit old for an apprenticeship? They usually don't take someone who has been out of school so long?”

Now, Hermione wished she hadn't said anything and just wished she had told George she was still considering his offer instead of being subjected to so many inquisitive looks as to how she had landed a Potions apprenticeship. Remembering that Albert Dobmeir had just dropped Trevor Spawn as a future apprentice, she ad-libbed by responding, “The apprentice the Potions master had lined up didn't work out. He remembered me and...” She let her sentence trail off, figuring it was best that she shut her mouth before this lie got any more complex. Hermione decided to let everyone else fill in the blanks.

Smiling at his wife, Ron asked, “When do you start?”

That was a good question. Deciding to cut and run from further entanglements in this bit of deceit, she said, “It depends on a few contingencies. I don't know. When I know more, I'll keep you all informed. Right now it's all tentative.”

She hoped that would close the issue, but her insistence to keep quiet only seemed to pique everyone's interest in her affairs even more.

“Who is the Potions master?” asked Harry, who was sitting on the other side of Ginny.

It was all she could do to keep her mind and mouth from blurting out “Severus Snape.” If Hermione did slip, she could always say it had been a joke. “Albert Dobmeir,” she announced.

Bill lifted his glass in salute. “Congratulations. I hear he's a good and fair one to apprentice under, unlike a few others I've heard of.”

Ron snorted and yelled out, “Yeah, like Snape!”

It was all Hermione could do not to choke on her own spit while the Weasley boys burst into laughter. She hid her discomfort by ducking her head and pretending to laugh into her hand; Hermione would not risk looking at Ginny until the moment passed for fear that someone would see them exchange meaningful glances. Arthur and Molly smiled, but did not join in the laughter.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Glaring down at his plate of food, Draco disdainfully commented, “Plain roasted chicken. Your culinary skills are slipping. Or are you still too hung-over from yesterday to bother with a little rosemary?”

Severus ignored Draco's comment, knowing full well the young wizard was attempting to taunt him into divulging information about his Friday night meeting with Hermione; so far, he had told Draco nothing.

Up to this point, Draco had been constantly nagging Severus for information about his progress with Hermione. Since he had entered Severus' flat, he had not mentioned the meeting or questioned Severus how well it had gone.

“I decided to move our formal weekly dinner to tomorrow instead. I'll be serving leg of lamb,” Severus informed his friend as he carefully sliced into the meat with his knife and fork. “And it's not plain roasted. I peppered and salted the cavity and skin before roasting. It is lightly seasoned.” He chewed with relish as Draco glared back at him.

“Fine. I'll ask how it went with Mrs. Weasley last night,” Draco huffed irritably. “From the fact that you have not killed yourself intentionally with poison, or accidentally with alcohol, nor did I arrive to find your place ruined once more, I can only assume our plans are back on track.” Severus sipped his wine, and gave a genteel nod of his head so that Draco could continue with his rant. “So, she'll get us the ingredients. And just how soon can we get them?”

With intentional cultured grace, Severus set his wine glass down, and dabbed the corners of his mouth with his napkin before replying calmly, “That depends.”

Having been schooled in the way of manners by his father, Draco knew exactly the methods Severus was using, as Severus had learned some of his mannerisms and charms from Lucius, especially the elder Malfoy's evasive and stalling tactics. “Very well, what are the contingencies that will delay us from leaving within one month's time as you had originally scheduled? And of these delays, what measures can be used to expedite the process so that we may leave this damned country sooner?” The blond wizard sat back in his chair, and swirled his wine in his glass with a practiced hand.

“The Boomslang skin and Bicorn horn are not an issue; the fluxweed picked during a full moon is.”

Draco's eyes narrowed. “What do you mean, the fluxweed is a problem? The stuff is a weed, and literally grows like one.”

“Yes, but no great plan can be carried out without some overwhelming hurdle to overcome,” the raven-haired wizard said, waxing philosophical. “You know nothing is ever as easy as it should seem. I planned for the human element to be the problem when actually nature is to blame in this instance. Hermione agreed wholeheartedly to help us in this matter without any begging, coercion, or promise of a Potions apprenticeship. The matter fully rests with Mother Nature, and her willingness to cooperate with us, or her bending to the will of the Fates, who seem to take great joy in fucking up my life as well as yours.”

After a synopsis of the situation of the scarce ingredient, Draco pinched the bridge of his nose, a mannerism he had picked up from his mentor. “Is there any other way to obtain fluxweed? Maybe we can send Ginny over to France to buy some then bring back?”

“You know, as well as I do, that the moment she comes back through the Floo, Apparition point, or Portkey, anything Ginny tries to smuggle back will wind up in the customs locker down in the Ministry's basement,” the older wizard lectured Draco. “Then, she would only be hauled in for questioning as to why she was trying to smuggle a regulated Potions ingredient into the country.”

“What about Muggle means of transportation? She can take a Portkey to Paris and then take a train back through the Chunnel,” Draco suggested, desperate for a quick solution.

“If England's borders were secured during the Napoleonic Wars to prevent ingredients from being smuggled in, even via Muggle ships, what makes you think the Ministry has not already secured the Chunnel as a smuggling port as well?” Sensing Draco's desperation, he put the idea out of the younger wizard's mind by adding, “Or, would you rather risk Ginny getting caught and interrogated by Moody with Veritaserum, spilling every secret she knows against her will?”

“So we sit and wait for the gods of weather to smile down on the east coast of the United States? Is that all we have left to hope for?” Draco asked with defeat.

“There is Katherine Bigelow in Spain. I have recommended that she should grow some fluxweed for a quick cash crop. I sent the owl to her today, so it should be arriving there by Monday at the latest.” Severus set his napkin on the table, as his appetite had waned with the discussion, but he continued to pour more wine for himself and his guest.

They sat in companionable silence drinking, and thinking about the future, both near and a long way down the road of life.

Studying Severus, Draco decided to test out a theory he had growing in the back of his mind during dinner. He waited until Severus was in mid-swallow before asking, “So, when did you finally bang Hermione?”

The sight of Severus spewing his wine halfway across the table was all Draco needed to confirm that they had actually had sex. The baleful glare Severus shot Draco only solidified his hunch that it was last night.

============

A/N: And this is the part where future chapters are posted as fast as my betas can edit them and then get through the validation queue at Ashwinder. I am posting to AFF and AO3, in addition to Ashwinder. Once they are up on Ashwinder, after begin validated, I'll post on the other sites as well since there is the odd error that my betas have missed and I need to correct before it's validated and posted. So it will be easier that I wait for it to be validated on Ashwinder and post on the other fanfic hosting sites after.
If you want to watch for future posting announcements and when chapters are up, you can subscribe to the Twitter page I have set up just for posting updates at: @ATDLHEAbetz
Or watch this fic's Tumblr page for updates: http://atdlhea-betz.tumblr.com/
I have the ENTIRE rest of “And They Didn't Live Happily Ever After” written out and I have proofed it a few more times. It's complete. The only thing keeping from posting it all in one go is that I need my betas to go through and clean it up, as all good fanfic should have at least one beta to edit.
So you will not have to worry about me posting more chapters to yet leave this unfinished for yet another nine years before more chapters are written. It is done. Just be patient with my betas as they will edit as fast as they can. Remember, they have lives and are betaing for me for free out of the kindness of their hearts.

A huge round of thanks to my wonderful betas (in random order): GinnyW, JuneW, and Horserider. And addition thanks to my regular sounding board, cocoachristy and GinnyW.
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And They Didn\'t Live Happily Ever After