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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
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“And They Didn't Live Happily Ever After”
Chapter Fifty-Six
“The Bitter Truth” or “The Kneazle Is Out of the Bag”

Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns Harry Potter and all the bits and bobs that go along. I am not making any money from this fanfic.

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Ron's game passed as a blur to Hermione. She sat there and cheered dutifully in the right spots using the cues of the crowd around her to guide her, but her mind was elsewhere. All she could do was relive in her mind the feelings experienced under the influence of the potion. Thoughts and feelings she was too scared to even consciously acknowledge had bubbled forth during her coupling with Severus.

Severus had been affected by the potion, as she’d noticed changes in him, and she kept recalling time and time again under the September sun the naked expression of what might be considered love on his face. He had openly looked at her with lust, desire, friendship, admiration and even amusement before, but the fleeting moment of what looked like love had crossed Severus' face. It was this look that made Hermione wonder if this potion did more than amplify feelings of arousal. Or was it that both she and Severus were using their physical attractions for one another as a mask for the growing love between each other?

Hermione had already admitted to herself she had fallen in love with Severus, although she would never say it aloud to him. Had he fallen in love with her as well? There were brief moments as if they behaved as a couple in love, but there was always a certain amount of reservation from Severus that made Hermione realize long ago she could never expect him to declare his love for her, if he felt the same way. And she accepted this arrangement.

A Sunday afternoon spent at the Burrow was yet another day Hermione spent going through the motions of life without engaging herself in the moment of her surroundings. One of the Weasley grandchildren was having their birthday, and Hermione didn't even remember to buy a present for her nephew until her husband asked what they were going to give him. A quick trip to Diagon Alley before they left corrected the oversight.

Ron made no mention of Hermione's forgetfulness, as it was uncharacteristic of her to forget such things, usually being on top of the obligations of family.

“So do you want to make another trip to Flourish and Blotts for your birthday?” Ron prompted her.

“Sorry, what?” Hermione replied, her mind lost in memories of time spent with Severus and their recent Potions work.

“Earth to Hermione,” Ron said slightly annoyed. “And you say I never listen to you.”

“My mind was on work,” Hermione truthfully confessed, remembering with disappointment that no shipment of boomslang came into work that Friday, despite her efforts to arrive there at six-thirty in the morning.

“Your birthday. Flourish and Blotts. Books. That okay?” Ron spoke in short, clipped sentences, tamping down his slight impatience

As much as the promise of new books usually improved Hermione's mood, the complete lack of effort from Ron to attempt to get her something different, despite his terrible track record for coming up with ideas for presents, annoyed her. At least when Severus gave her one of his books, it was given with great consideration and thought, and with the knowledge that he was giving up one of his own treasures, as if giving a little piece of himself. Hermione and Severus both viewed books as if they were friends to be cherished and parted with great reluctance.

“I guess,” she acquiesced. “Or maybe a day at the spa.” She was ready to admit she didn't care anymore.

“Oh, Ginny's taking you to the spa this Saturday for your birthday,” he replied brightly. “I'll be at a game abroad, so you'd have Saturday free anyway. She says you're really going to look forward to the treat she has in store for you. Some sort of full body treatment, she said. Or if you want to go to that place, Madame Maurelle Mandel's.” It seemed as though it pained Ron to reluctantly suggest the place. “I mean, if you really like the type of dresses they sell there,” he added begrudgingly while gritting his teeth. A hint of a sneer disturbed the smooth line of his upper lip.

Hermione had a feeling Ginny put him up to putting forth that suggestion, since he averted his eyes when he mentioned the place.

As much as she could have given up and tell Ron that some books were fine as a present, a small and petty part of Hermione wanted to poke at Ron's sore spot out of spite. “Why, Ron, dress shopping sounds like it would be fun. I think that would be a lovely birthday present. Thank you.” To rub it in, she stood up on her tops and gave Ron a kiss on the cheek to show her “gratitude” for the suggestion and offer.

“Oh,” Ron added, “Bascom wants me to go with him to some broom convention in Italy after the game Saturday and be there Sunday to introduce me to the press, so I won't be back until late Sunday. You going to be all right on your birthday weekend without me around?”

“We have dinner Friday night with my parents,” Hermione assured him. “That's fine, don't worry. Go and have fun.” A weekend in a foreign country did sound like it would have been a fine birthday present, but she knew Ron would be busy conducting business with Bascom. Considering how uncomfortable Mr. Nettleton had made her feel the last time they crossed paths, and the way he undressed her with his eyes publicly, she was happy to let Ron have Bascom all to himself. “I have chores to catch up on and errands to run.”

Fleur and Molly were busy playing co-hostesses, running back and forth to the kitchen while periodically sitting down to eat for a while. The party was originally planned to be at Bill and Fleur's home, but a recent infestation of aggressive brownies that had taken residence in a rapidly growing patch of blacksnare brambles caused the party to be relocated. Fleur had tried to get rid of the brownies herself, but it was a job larger than even a witch of her talents could do, especially with the demands of five children.

During dinner, Philippe – Bill and Fleur's second oldest child, who was turning four – got to sit in the place of prominence at the head of the table by asking to sit in his grandfather's lap. The other children also sat by their grandfather and the birthday boy, since all the balloons and decorations were over at that end of the table. This left the adults to occupy the other end of the table, where the twins discussed in quiet tones their latest business venture, using euphemisms should there be a wayward child lurking beneath the table.

“How's that apprenticeship position coming along,” Fred asked Hermione.

“Still contingent upon some unknown factors,” she answered honestly.

“I know how that goes. Even our silent partner seems to have some things waiting upon some unspecified contingencies as well.”

Hermione knew very well to whom the twins were referring. She could have said that Albert Dobmeir, her Potions master, would be working for Lavender Brown, so in some respects they were all working with the same person. However, she didn't want to say anything until after the fluxweed was procured and the Polyjuice Potion was already brewing with certainty of completion. She wondered if the fluxweed was the contingency the business mogul witch was referring to when talking with the twins, but she didn't want to presume.

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

In order to see if the arousal potion, with the full pinch of Caprese mother of pearl, was just as effective on men as on women, Severus took the potion Monday night.

Hermione had bound him to the chair and plugged her ears, after Severus' report about her own voice under the potion being quite hypnotic.

It had been a long time since Severus had been rendered immobile in the way Hermione had bound him, and he could feel the fear building inside of himself. He hid his fear, as being a master of Occlumency meant mastering one's emotions, but the sensation brought back memories of being temporarily bound and hexed by Lucius that time that resulted in him winding up in the Hogwarts infirmary for a while. Severus remembered he was in the presence of Hermione, who would never harm him. He was safe with her.

She poured the elixir into Severus' waiting mouth, unaware of the reeling panic Severus was mentally talking himself down from. Hermione admired the rosy iridescent color of the mixture as it drained along the sides of the glass.

Severus rolled his head back languidly, exposing his neck. All fear had now left his body, replaced with growing ardor.

Hermione could feel the effects of the potion herself. Severus' skin took on an enticing quality. She wanted to kiss his neck with long and possessive kisses.

Her hand held the antidote, but it was forgotten, placed on the table so she could caress his skin with both hands. Severus caught her eyes in his own and Hermione felt lost in them, their blackness calling to her.

“I need you,” were the words she read from his lips.

Stroking his hair, she felt his breath upon her cheek as she kissed his temples, trailing over his eyelids, down his nose, and closer to his mouth.

Severus' eyes were heavy with desire, begging her to release him from his bounds so he could take her – despite him saying no words. She was ready to kiss his mouth when, out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of the antidote on the table. The vial was on its side with the liquid dripping across the table top and onto the floor.

Hermione suddenly regained her senses with considerable effort. Rushing over to the table and away from Severus, she grabbed another vial of the antidote that was ready and, while avoiding eye contact with Severus, poured it into his mouth.

Severus shook violently as the antidote countered the potion's effect. He nodded at Hermione that it was safe for her to remove her ear plugs.

Releasing him from his bounds, Hermione said with awe, “That potion makes you quite irresistible. If I had not noticed the antidote dripping onto the floor, I probably would have kissed you and then...”

Both were curious as to how the sex might be while under the enchantment of this particular strength potion, but they still had some experimentation to conduct before they could relax and play around.

Severus marveled at the way the potion had made him feel. He had felt like he was a sex god and Hermione could not refuse him. Though she ultimately had – barely – it was due largely in part to her own willpower, just as his own willpower had prevented him from succumbing to Hermione's charms under the same potion strength.

'Irresistible. That's the perfect name for it,' Severus noted to himself.

On Saturday, Ginny had come over to visit Draco. The three of them conducted the experiment where Ginny partook of the potion with the full pinch of mother of pearl. And while Severus noted with detached objectivity that Ginny did seem to appear slightly more attractive, he was not drawn to her any more than before, nor her to him. Draco, on the other hand, had become completely overwhelmed, and the two young lovers began to ravage each other without noticing the lingering presence of Severus in the room. He excused himself wordlessly, as they would not have even noticed if the world fell down around them.

Draco gave him a report afterwards that Ginny's kiss imparted some of the potions effects to him to a much lesser degree, as expected. The full effect of the potion seemed to have lasted a little over two hours, which was somewhat different from Hermione's report that the effect waned greatly after coupling with a smaller dose of the integral ingredient. It could be the amount of Caprese mother of pearl extended the effects of the potion. It would be something to test out without the antidote to shorten the observable effects.

“Ginny said the potion lasts for two hours. Considering Miss Brown has decided to go with the sixty-six brewed-hours version of the Male Enhancement potion, which lasts two hours as well, maybe women will need a couple hours in order to find the fortitude to remain enamored of their husbands' interests,” he admitted, thinking of the length of time both potions would remain effective if sold as a pair, packaged as a “Romantic Evening” enhancement.

Severus did not elaborate regarding his declaration of his need for Hermione that it was more of a confession of his heart than his loins.

Hermione had agreed that nothing would be taken seriously while taken under the potion's power, but he still found it a disquieting feeling to lay his emotions so openly to another.

As the evening wore on, this time it was Severus who was bound to the chair trying the potions with various levels of Caprese mother of pearl added and afterwards noting the effects, with Hermione taking down his remarks on parchment paper and noting her own observations. They had tried the strongest dose at the beginning of the evening and worked backwards towards weaker doses, until Hermione gave him the weakest dose – the same one Hermione and Severus had both tried during their last session of lovemaking the week before.

The back and forth between consuming concupiscence and the abrupt halting of his libido with the frigid antidote was exhausting to Severus.

“Did you find yourself tired after all this potions testing last week?” he asked, hoping it wasn't a sign he was getting old.

“Yes, I slept like the dead Thursday night,” she informed him.

“You didn't seem that tired by the end of the night.”

“I was excited to finally get around to doing some Potions work that didn't involve testing ingredients. Something that I can actually apply towards my apprenticeship, but I was dog-tired by the end of the night, now that I think about it,” Hermione recalled.

They ended their Monday night earlier than usual. After cleaning up, Hermione tucked Severus into his bed, noticing how he’d nearly fallen asleep at the kitchen table and definitely had drifted off while partially reclined on the settee. She undressed him and placed a loving kiss upon his temple before letting herself out and locking the door.

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

It was Tuesday night, and once again it was time for the trotting out of Hermione's and Ron's grievances with each other with a Muggle playing referee. Their marriage counselor, James Hoover, had noticed the increase in Ron's aggression and the shortening of his temper.

James even remarked, “Ron, I'm quite concerned about this change in behavior since you have begun taking these drugs–”

“Wizards don't do drugs like Muggles,” Ron interrupted. “Us wizards can control ourselves, unlike some of those Muggles I see in dirty alleys out in London and the needles sticking out of their arms. We take potions, and we are able to control ourselves.”

Hermione wanted to crawl off into a hole at that moment. Ron sounded like he was half a step away from being a full-fledged Death Eater to her ears.

“That's not true, Ron,” Hermione retorted. “I've seen some witches and wizards lost in the stupor of some potion hoping to forget the dire situation they are in, seeking an escape.”

“Yeah, but those were Death Eaters living 'al fresco' and they're all dead now,” her husband said, casually throwing the argument back in her face.

“Wait, what?” James interjected, lost on the finer points of Ron's innuendos.

Hermione turned to James to explain how many Death Eaters after the war had lost all their money, and many had been ejected from their residence after it was seized by the Ministry. In the aftermath, many Death Eaters were homeless, living outdoors and sheltered in alcoves and back alleys until taking poison to end their lives, or taking potions to obscure their bleak reality until wasting away.

James looked horrified that the general wizarding population had such a blatant disregard for life and their fellows’ well-being, despite their being criminals.

“Well, they killed enough witches and wizards – pure-blood, half-blood and Muggleborn – as well as Muggles, that they got what they deserved,” Ron threw out as if it justified their treatment that they were all the same. “Besides, I don't see you Muggles doing much to deal with all those drug users I see out in the Muggle world.”

“We do,” James informed him. “We have laws regarding the manufacture, distribution and consumption of certain drugs, and medical and government programs to help those get help to break free of their addiction.”

“Yeah, well, the rest of us normal witches and wizards don't have a problem.” Ron folded his arms with a certain finality. He clearly wasn't open to any debate that might inform him of the other side's point of view or acknowledge facts.

“Oh, and love potions have never, in the entirety of wizarding history, ever been abused?” Hermione asked rhetorically.

“There is such a thing as love potions that actually exist?” James asked, shocked.

“Yes, James. And Voldemort,” she paused to let the effect of that name wash over Ron, “he was born because his inbred mother used a love potion to seduce and marry a Muggle who left her once the potion wore off. And nothing bad ever happened from that,” she announced sarcastically.

Ron glared at her. “That's because he was a Muggle and didn't understand anything about our wizarding world. Maybe if you were raised in our world you'd understand these things better.”

Hermione felt a chill race down her spine as her back became ramrod straight. “You're a bigot, Ron. I can't believe that after all we went through, and the bias I fought as a Muggle-born, that you would be so callous as to say these things.” She fought the tears that were building behind her eyes.

“Ron,” James stepped in, “do you realize how hurtful your attitude is regarding Hermione's background? You say you have nothing against Muggle-borns, but then you say that if she grew up in 'your' world that she'd understand. Do you comprehend how your choice of words seems contradictory and even hurtful? Hermione has fought against this sort of bias for years within your community, and yet you say these things? Do you see?”

“What's hurtful about the truth?” Ron said.

Hermione could see that Ron's logic had shrunk with the continued use of this muscle-enhancing potion and was now near non-existent. It could have been that his sense of logic was only limited to the chess board and he’d never applied it in any other part of his life, but to Hermione it seemed that Ron was becoming more and more irrational.

“If I'm so fucking clueless about 'our' world,'” she asked, using exaggerated air quotes while over-enunciating the choice of her pronoun, “then why the hell did you ask me to marry you?”

“Because my mum told me to!” Ron yelled back.

Hermione was stunned and felt the breath in her chest freeze in place. But before the tears came, her brain latched on to an earlier thread of the conversation. “Well, that truth certainly fucking hurts, you spineless git.”

Determining that this session was over, Hermione Accio’ed her wand and bolted for the door before Ron could see her cry.

James called out to her as she ran to the rear exit that James reserved for his wizarding clients. As he reached the threshold, Hermione Apparated away; the only sound was a pop from the vacuum of space she left behind.

“I don't know why we even bother coming,” Ron muttered, sounding more angry than defeated.

James never suggested divorce for any of this clients unless there was some abuse involved – physical, emotional or mental – but Mr. Weasley's admission of his reasons for proposing certainly changed the dynamics of their marriage and the reasons why they were still together. Given the lack of counseling progress and this latest confession, James Hoover didn't think even he could save this marriage. If it could not be saved, he would try and pave the way for as smooth and clean a separation as possible.

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

Hermione was glad Ron didn't come home Tuesday night, and she really didn't care that he didn't come home Wednesday either. If they weren't avoiding each other or fucking, they usually were fighting. The time apart from Ron was a relief. She could relax in her own home without being on edge that she would be pounced upon by either Ron's erection or his snide comments. It certainly was a relief she didn't have to go to the market in the middle of the week to restock the cupboard, as Ron's appetite was still in high gear as he continued to gain muscle.

A check of the cupboard showed that nearly all his muscle-enhancing potion was gone, which meant he either hadn't restocked, or he came home while Hermione was asleep or at work and cleared out his supply. Ron's duffle bag and some clothes were gone as well, which meant she might be going to her parents alone for her birthday, which would make for an awkward situation. She might be able to convincingly lie to them that Ron had to travel early for his game in Russia, but her mother was pretty astute in knowing when her daughter was troubled.

Even her Thursday night dinner at Severus' flat was a slightly strained affair. He could see the trouble Hermione was having digesting this latest revelation about her marriage. Since he knew her mind would not be solidly on Potions experimentation, he canceled the work they were going to do and instead had her rest.

They hadn't made love the Monday prior, and he did not initiate any intimacies with his lover other than a long cuddle in front of the fire.

“He married me because his mother told him to,” Hermione said aloud, more as a reiteration to herself to help mentally process the concept than for Severus' knowledge.

“Marriages arranged by the parents are far more common than you'd believe,” Severus said bitterly.

Hermione wondered if his open disgust was more in criticism of society in general, or was there some personal experience of his own he hadn't shared with her; she remembered the name Gabrielle that he’d once murmured in a dream. She curbed her curiosity and decided to let it slip by without further query.

“It makes me wonder if the marriage was more a whole lie to please his parents than his desire to be with me.” Hermione questioned her value to her husband versus the convenience of doing what he was told.

“Friendships and sometimes true love can bloom in such arrangement,” the older wizard expounded further upon his original thought. “And you claim that there was a strong friendship before any romance. Some marriages never develop into friendships. And without the basis of friendship, there can be no trust or deep and truly meaningful love. Maybe yours is a marriage of friendship without the passion and romantic love you expected it would be.”

Hermione was too emotionally worn out to contemplate the philosophical aspects of a marriage based on friendship versus true love, and the many variations of such contractual arrangements. She stared at the fire until she drifted off against Severus’ shoulder, feeling safe in her spiritual sanctuary.

Severus gently woke her with a kiss to her forehead and the soft calling of her name.

As Severus placed her cloak about her shoulders, she noticed him swallow with difficulty as if his throat had gone dry.

“I've had a cancellation Saturday,” Severus said, trying to sound not too eager. “Would you like to stay Saturday night with me? Dinner, dancing, and no need to leave at the end of the night.”

Hermione had informed him earlier in the evening that Ron would be gone for the weekend.

It seemed a bit brazen, given her married status, to stay the night at her lover's flat. Then again, Hermione had no idea where Ron was staying the nights he was gone after their many fights. Ron's latest marital revelation had certainly severed any loyalty Hermione felt tied to her husband. And while she would not flaunt her infidelities to Ron, she no longer felt any compunction about continuing her affair with Severus, unabated by whatever facade of morals she used to have regarding her husband.

Smiling with as much strength as she could muster, Hermione said, “Yes, I can. I would love to.”

There was a moment of relief on Severus’ face, as if Hermione might reject him. He was very glad Miss Anne had canceled their habitual Saturday appointment earlier in the week, mentioning she was joining a friend in Italy for the weekend, as that meant there was no need for Hermione to rush home from the spa on Saturday. The revelation of Hermione's husband’s business trip fomented the idea in his mind to invite her to stay the night.

“I look forward to seeing you Saturday,” Severus said, as he discreetly pinned a small corsage of celandine, white clover, and a single purple pansy to the breast of Hermione’s cloak before giving her a lingering farewell kiss.

It was only as she was removing her cloak at home that she observed the corsage that had gone unnoticed until that moment.

'Celandine for 'Joys to come.' White clover for 'Think of me.' Purple pansy for 'You occupy my thoughts.' '

Hermione laid back on her bed, staring at the ceiling and the corsage clutched to her chest, her heart much lighter and her head feeling a little dizzy.

“Oh, Severus, I think of you far more than I can freely admit,” she confessed to her empty room, unaware her mirror watched her while smiling on.

============
A/N: Well, now that the Kneazle is out of the bag and Ron has admitted he married Hermione because Molly told him to, how much longer will this marriage last? Stay tuned.
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And They Didn\'t Live Happily Ever After