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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
- 60
- 61
- 62
“And They Didn't Live Happily Ever After”

Chapter Sixty
“Chicken Soup for the Soul”

Disclaimer: Once upon a fanfic dreary, while I wrote on tired and leery,
Over many a quaint and curious chapter of forgotten woe—
While I wrote a load of crap, suddenly there came a pinging tap,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my instant message window.
“’Tis lawyers,” I muttered, “reminding me to disclaim ownership of Harry Potter for it belongs to JK Rowling—
Only this and nothing more.”
A/N: Disclaimer a parody of Edgar Allan Poe's “The Raven”

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

“Your head's not in the game today, Richard,” Calpurnia gently chastised Severus.

There had been a great many things on the former Head of Slytherin House's mind as of late. Hermione informed him that there was no September shipment of fluxweed picked during a full moon, despite the delivery of some picked during a new moon. The hurricane season along the North American Atlantic coast had stayed away from the growing fields once Hurricane Isabel passed through in mid-September, so there was still hope that a crop might have been picked during October's full moon four days prior on the 10th.

In addition to the Polyjuice Potion weighing heavily on his mind, there was the Amorous Enhancing Potion he and Hermione had been testing. During their last testing session, Hermione confessed about the magical dildos the twins had sent her and suggested that she bring them over sometime for them to incorporate into their sexual repartee. Though they had made a promise to discount anything said under the influence of the potion, Hermione did admit, once she came down off of it, that she was still up for playing around with them if Severus was still interested. His mind kept drifting back to what fun he was going to have the next time Hermione came over with new toys.

Then there was the recent rush development caused by Miss Brown informing him that several dress makers and couture mavens had asked for the temporary hair dye, but in bright colors to match many of the dresses they were selling. Severus and Draco had to spend many recent evenings coloring their hair in shades of gold, silver, bronze, copper, crimson red, electric blue, peacock green, puce, cerise, forest green, tangerine, turquoise, royal purple, cyan, rose pink, salmon, baby pink, dark coral, aquamarine, mint green, maroon, kelly green, aubergine-plum, lemon yellow, and, of course, lavender. Even Hermione had to help, participating as a test subject of several shades. Severus took pity on her and kept it to three different colors during each visit before they ended the experimentation on her hair and started experimenting with her hormones instead. The metallic colors took three washings to rinse clean, and Severus was still trying to figure out how to fix the solution to wash out in one shampooing.

“I'm quite sorry, but your descriptions of the upcoming Ministry ball have me thinking about what a stellar gala it will be,” Severus said.

Calpurnia knew her chess companion was lying, but out of courtesy, she allowed the lie to pass as if it were truth. Severus knew she was aware of his lie. Neither acknowledged when they knew the other was lying, as it would have been rude to point out the obvious.

Severus forced himself to focus on the rest of his game out of cordiality, even though his lapse of attention had already cost him the game.

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

Ron was getting wise, or at least starting to put two and two together. When hinting he was interested in sex, he began using vulgar euphemisms and gestures more often, pantomiming that his cock was his wand, swishing and flicking it in an erect state. 'That's not fourteen inches,' Hermione dryly thought to herself. Instead of plainly speaking her mind, she coyly suggested more massages, to which Ron rebuffed and insisted on a massage afterwards instead since he began noticing Hermione's special touch was making him drift off to sleep before his needs were met.

'That defeats the whole fucking purpose of the massage, then.'

Hermione was in no mood to shag her husband. At least she still had the menstrual card to play and begged off by saying it was 'that time,' to which Ron immediately agreed with a slight grimace of disgust and went off to the bedroom for a good wank instead.

As she sat in the kitchen with a cup of raspberry leaf tea, the pensive witch ignored the faint sounds coming from her bedroom.

'At least Severus isn't repulsed by menstrual flow,' she thought, recalling the day before at Severus' flat. She had offered to put off sex if he was bothered by it, to which he replied he wasn't at all. They still experimented with the Arousal Enhancing Potion; the sex that followed was quite surreal with Severus at the end of their coupling unfazed by the sight of her menstrual blood smeared all over his manhood, down his thighs, and clotted in his pubic hair. There was a frothy pink foam still clinging to his sac and base of his cock.

She still couldn't believe she suggested bringing dildos over for sexual play.

After all these years married to Ron, Hermione had never had sex during her menstrual cycle and was a little shocked herself at the sight of it. At least Severus had the good sense from experience to lay down several towels on the bed, or she feared it would have looked like a murder scene where she had lain.

This cycle was proving to be rather taxing on her since she had skipped the previous month. Still, Hermione should be glad, at least, she wasn't pregnant, though with the potion she took every night she had sex with Severus for pregnancy and venereal diseases, per Ministry regulation, there was no chance of that happening.

As she was finishing her tea, she heard her husband call for her from the bedroom.

'Don't tell me you changed your mind,' she prayed.

“'Mione? 'Mione! Can I get one of those great massages?” he wheedled, as he was wiping up the dribbles of cum from his stomach and chest with a tissue. “My muscles feel so relaxed afterwards, it really takes all the knots out of my back, especially when I can't get a time slot with the team's masseur.”

Now Hermione's curiosity was piqued.

Coming into the bedroom, she surveyed her husband reclining on the bed and pulling out more tissues. She could have taught Ron that Arabic post-coitus cleaning spell she had learned from Severus, but then there would be the inevitable question of where she had learned a spell like that.

Ron, as a young wizard, had expounded with great authority that all the dark wizards came from Slytherin House. As an adult he also had an equally “profound opinion” about magic regarding things of a sexual nature and “good” witches not knowing those types of spells.

As Ron finished destroying the last of the soiled tissues with his wand, he beckoned her to come in and join him.

“So tell me more about how relaxed your muscles feel?” Hermione questioned her husband.

“When you're massaging my back, it's like wherever you rub with that oil, the next morning all the kinks and knots in my back are gone. Is there something special about that oil?” he asked.

'Bugger!' Hermione kept a sweet smile upon her lips. “Just some stuff that said 'Relaxing
Massage Oil.'”

“It certainly does the job. Makes me drop right off,” Ron admitted.

'The jig is up. Double bugger.' Hermione started wondering about slipping a time-delayed sleeping agent into Ron's dinners on the nights when she was home early enough to cook.

“Well?” Ron flopped onto his stomach on his side of the bed. “Can I get another massage?”

Hermione supposed it was better than Ron up half the night wanking away, keeping her up in the process, and it would only take a few moments anyway.

“Sure,” she replied as she went to fetch the elixir.

As during previous applications, Ron was snoring soundly in less than five minutes.

Curious to the muscle-relaxing properties, and given that she was going to go to bed anyway, Hermione tucked herself under the covers and took a small amount and rubbed it across the tops of her shoulders that were tight from work. As Hermione felt the warmth spread across where the simple potion made contact, she could feel her muscles twitch as they began to relax.

'I should try applying this across my lower abdomen next time I get menstrual cramps,' she thought just before she dropped off herself, sleeping more soundly than she had recently.

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

Severus was reading with great interest one of the books Ginny recently bought for him from the same Muggle bookstore Hermione showed her back in July. In order to conceal it, he had a dust jacket from one of his “boring old” potions tomes covering it, fitting it perfectly as if made for it. Should Moody continue to consider Miss Brown not above suspicion and inspect the Potions master's office, he would merely see a room filled with Miss Brown's research materials and no incriminating books to tell otherwise.

Engrossed with reading about the local weather, rain patterns and temperature variations based on elevation, Severus didn't hear his employer enter his office.

“Severus? Severus!” his employer called out in louder tones, continuing to knock on his door despite having already opened it as she stood in the threshold.

Realizing her presence, he placed a bookmark in his book before setting it down.

“I didn't know a book on exotic fungi could hold your attention so raptly.”

“Quite,” he replied as he leaned back in his chair.

“Could you come to my office? I'd like to discuss a few things with you.” Lavender waited for Severus to nod his head in acceptance of her invite before going back to her office.

Severus could tell that there was something he wouldn't like by the way that Wonkle had already brought the tea service before he arrived. His employer was pouring him a cup before even asking if he wanted any. She even had a heaping pile of jammy thumb biscuits, and those lemon crème sandwich biscuits she rarely served, on a tiered tray with the service. He loved those lemon crème sandwiches as much, possibly more, than the jammy thumb biscuits.

“Will this be our usual Friday status meeting, or is the Minister of Magic stopping by for a visit,” he drawled, as he ran a finger along a freshly washed doily, surveying how she had some of her nicest linens, crispy pressed, laid neatly on the low table before them.

“First of all, I want to thank you for rushing the job of the new hair colors. We're selling them as fast as we can manufacture and get them to the shops.” Lavender took a sip of tea that seemed more perfunctory than enjoyable.

Severus looked about and casually observed, “Won't Draco be joining us for tea?”

“I'll be having a separate meeting with Draco later on. He's busy at the moment.” She didn't elaborate, which was odd since she usually explained what Draco was busy working on at the time to explain his absence.

“I'm more than happy to come back at a later time so you can speak with us both, since I know you have a busy schedule,” Severus offered, trying to show her hand, since he could tell she was trying to soften him up for something.

“No, no. I have time.” She gave a constricted sigh as if trying to not show too much of her hand, though she knew Severus was on to her.

“Then, please, continue.” He leaned back in his chair, crossing his legs with a show of casual relaxation, a counterpoint to his employer's growing agitation.

“As you know, the Ministry's Halloween masked ball is two weeks from today.” She placed her tea cup down and folded her hands on her lap, doing a fair imitation of a much younger and far less confident McGonagall.

Severus held his tongue about that point being obvious, waiting for her prologue to continue unabated.

“And given that, should certain factors of the weather in North America cooperate, you may be retiring from your position. And relocating as well.” She swallowed hard and he could see her struggle as she defiantly jutted her chin in the air and announced, “Which means that given that 'Sebastian Delgado' will be leaving my employ nearly around the same time that one of my 'Death Eater gigolos' flees the country, that may be a bit obvious. So at the Ministry's masked ball, I need you to appear as Sebastian Delgado, Spanish accent and all, in order to give credence to my claim that it is mere coincidence that 'Sebastian Delgado' goes back to Spain at the same time Severus Snape manages to escape.”

Severus glared at her for a moment before simply replying in a quiet, threatening tone, “What?”

His employer had even hinted previously that Severus should attend the recently announced Ministry Halloween Masked Ball, dyeing his hair and employing other simple disguise methods that did not use charms or transfiguration, such as make-up to darken his skin tone, something stuffed down his shirt to give him a pot belly and so on. She even suggested Severus use his “Spanish accent”, having received an owl from Molly Weasley about the “gentleman with the foreign accent” and her now weekly tea and harping bookings with Severus.

“You heard me. I don't like it either, but I have to cover my arse,” she threw back at him.

“And you're not asking Draco–” he began.

“Draco will hopefully be doing this as well.” She looked as nonplussed as Severus. “Draco has a nom de plume for his work, too, seeing how I can't exactly say Draco Malfoy, famous ex-Death Eater, is working in a non-sanctioned capacity.”

Severus was unaware of Draco using a false name and wondered why he never made mention of it before, but dismissed further contemplating on the matter in order to concentrate on the matter at hand.

“I'm speaking to Draco later and making the same request as I am presenting to you.” Lavender got up and began pacing around her office. “I have just as much to lose. Should I not provide any proof that Sebastian Delgado and James White ever walked the earth, then if you succeed in leaving and Moody gets it into his head that I helped you escape, then all this is for nothing. All my money and yours will be confiscated. That's the end of your royalties and my life should I survive a Dementor's Kiss.”

“Draco's false name is James White?” was all that Severus could ask.

“You can ask him about that later, but what I need to know is if you'll come to the ball,” she asked, looking a bit frantic that Severus might balk, which he was considering doing.

Still, he did see the point of her needing him to make an appearance under his alias.

“It's a masked ball and, from all the chatter in social circles, people are showing up masked hoping that between their outfits, the hair dye and the masks, no one will guess who they are,” she offered to convince him. “And we can get a fake padded belly for you, and use hair dye to hide your signature locks. I'll even pay for dress robes to be fitted with your new 'pot belly.'”

“A pot belly?” He cocked a brow at the thought of himself sporting a less than svelte figure.

“And I'll brew some Ageing Potion for you both,” she added, hoping to convince him to go through with the idea. “Just show up, allow me to introduce you to a few people, shake a few hands, have a cup of punch, and then excuse yourself when the dancing starts.”

Severus contemplated it. If he could get himself back into the graces of the Dark Lord and play the role of faithful Death Eater for years, he could pretend to be Sebastian Delgado for one short evening.

“I'll do it on one condition,” he finally said.

“What,” she asked with hesitation, fearing some unreasonable request.

“That Draco must be older than me.”

His employer erupted into gales of laughter.

Severus didn't understand what was so funny, as it made sense that – to throw Moody and his ilk off Miss Brown's trail – if the Potions master was younger than the marketing executive, it would be harder to assume that young Malfoy and old 'James White' were one and the same.

“Draco is going to hate the fact that he'll be older than you,” she finally choked out.

“Considering that this helps assure him that the money he earned under your employ is safe, you'd be surprised what Draco is willing to put up with,” Severus explained.

Draco was used to the best growing up and reinforcing that vanity, but since having his fortune removed, concern over his finances became more an issue of security of the basic necessities than for flaunting status or strutting like a peacock. And then there was the issue of doing anything to help make sure his escape with Ginny ensured as few complications as possible. Besides, Severus could see the young wizard having some fun at the ball by dancing with Ginny right under Potter's nose while being disguised as some doddering old wizard.

“But just in case, you'd better bring in some chocolate bonbons for Draco to help put him in the mood to acquiesce,” Severus noted, gesturing with his hand toward the tea service. “This morning, Kingsley informed us that the trial for Pansy's murderer is Monday, and Draco is feeling quite foul, and justifiably so.”

Severus could have sworn a flash of sympathy flickered across Miss Brown's face, despite remembering there was a great deal of animosity between the Gryffindor and Slytherin witches during their school years.

Momentarily relieved that the most awkward part of their conversation had been addressed, Lavender asked, “Now that that's out of the way, tell me about your progress on the Libido Enhancement Potion.”

“It's progressing. I still require a few more weeks for testing since I only see Hermione two nights a week.”

“Well, you can make it three, if Hermione is free on Saturdays. Miss Anne owled me last night to say her current paramour and she have gotten quite serious as of late and she's ready to end her visits to you, especially since she's bowed out of seeing you the past few weeks. She didn't want to say goodbye in person and make things awkward and complicated, so she wrote this note for me to hand to you when next I saw you,” Lavender informed him as she pulled a letter from her desk drawer and handed it over to its recipient.

Severus noted the clean and elegant penmanship on the envelope before tucking it into his robes to read later in private. “I suppose that if I'm back down to two clients a week, you'll have to find a third in order to have a pretense of me 'earning my keep,'” he insinuated with cold detachment.

“If the last ingredient was procured, I would say there would be no need to bother, but considering it is unknown how much longer we remain in limbo, it is best if we did keep up appearances.” Lavender refilled her cup of tea, but not before offering to refresh Severus', which he accepted.

“And the body paint?” she prompted him. “Is there any progress on that front?”

“Actually, yes,” he said plainly. “I think I may have come across a solution that makes it quick-drying, lickable, and peelable, and comes in several different fruity flavors. But I have some more research to do before I can begin experimentation.”

Severus made no mention this time that Hermione was the one who came up with the idea of using instant jelly after hearing him complain bitterly about being uninspired regarding the edible body paints. She had promised to bring over a couple of boxes purchased from a Muggle market next time she came over. He was keen on trying the black currant and raspberry when she listed off flavors to choose from.

The Potions master silently wondered how much Miss Brown would complain about yet another potion quandary solved with Hermione's help. Though he did have to admit that jelly was an unusual dessert item in the wizarding world, outside of Hogwarts serving it up during Welcoming and Leaving Feasts, and that gelatin-based foods tended to be more of the savory aspic kind than sweet and fruity.

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

Hermione hoped Severus wasn't too disappointed that she couldn't come over Saturday at the last minute. She wrote in her reply that her husband had a game at home; it was unknown when the game would end and her presence, as Ron's wife, was expected. It was prudent of her to reject Severus' invitation to come over for an evening of potions experimentation, as the Chudley Cannons versus the French Marseilles Manticores Quidditch game didn't end until almost eleven that night. She was thankful at least she’d brought a Potions apprentice-level book Severus had given her several weeks back to study, in order to kill time until that damned elusive Golden Snitch finally turned up and was caught.

One thing Hermione looked forward too, should her marriage to Ron end, was the freeing up of her weekends from Quidditch games and mandatory attendance at all the Weasley gatherings that sucked up her little free time. She was looking to an evening with Severus involving Potions work, sex and a little sploshing.

Knocking on the door Monday night, Hermione was greeted by a rather haunted looking Severus. By the look of his being and the half-empty bottle of spirits on the table by the settee, Hermione could tell something was gravely bothering him.

“What is it? What happened?” she asked. Concern was etched deeply in her face as Severus let go of her hand limply and gracelessly threw himself into a chair, indicating he was slightly drunk.

“You do know about the murder of Pansy Parkinson?” Severus asked, sounding bitter and angry.

“Yes, from what I read of the papers,” Hermione admitted, though she did not mention that Ginny had told her that Harry stumbled upon a murder scene that she later surmised was Pansy's murder. She also recalled that the murder happened the same night as her anniversary, but kept that to herself as well.

“And are you aware of the prior betrothal that Mr. Malfoy and Miss Parkinson had, which was broken upon the fall of the Dark Lord?” Severus said, over-enunciating some of the words to compensate for his drunken state.

“No.” Hermione went to kneel by Severus to hold his hand in comfort and to observe his face more closely. “I was unaware of that fact.”

“Though he had no great love for Miss Parkinson, they did have a sort of friendship, and after beginning working for Miss Brown, he gave Pansy a monthly stipend to help her since, as you are aware...” Severus turned his head and fixed Hermione with a sardonic smile while his eyes became even more distant. “... our job opportunities are few and far between other than selling our arses.” He swept his hand across the room, indicating the room itself as a place where he peddled his own flesh for coin. “Or scrubbing toilets at the Ministry,” he added at the end without disguising his rancor.

He continued snarling at no one in particular, “Though that is what she did, when she wasn't stripping in seedy 'wizards' clubs,' as they call them. ‘Strip clubs,’ if you want to be less euphemistic and more realistic.”

Severus was drunk and angry. Hermione had seen him angry at her once before and that scared her; Severus rambling, drunk and angry was a different beast and possibly more frightening. He had the scent of a cornered animal about him.

“Draco asked me to go with him for moral support to the trial today,” Severus hoarsely croaked as he began to recall, lost in introspection. “We sat in the back with our hoods up like the other witches and wizards who came to watch the circus spectacle, but not be seen, in the highest and darkest rows of the Wizengamot chamber.”

Hermione Summoned a cushion from the settee to make sitting on the floor next to Severus' chair more comfortable, while holding his hand as he continued to talk.

“Were you aware your friend, Potter, was the one who came upon Miss Parkinson's body?” he asked.

Hermione somberly nodded.

Severus continued on. “All those years I resented the boy for being famous because his mother...” He paused, as he choked on the words. “She loved him more than her own life. He was merely an infant; it was the focus of her love that saved him. Her love was never celebrated. He was. It was the fact that her love that saved him and made him who he was, temporarily destroying...”

Severus shut his eyes tight to fight back the tears as he returned to his previous drunken train of thought.

“When the verdict was read, despite all the obvious evidence short of a Pensieve memory of him slaughtering her himself, he was rendered not guilty and Potter objected. Moody gets to use Veritaserum on me on a whim, yet they would not use it in this trial. The only reason why Potter was able to address the Wizengamot was because of his celebrity. As much as I loathed him for years for his unearned celebrity, as much as I thought he received undue favoritism because of it, he used it to try to change the Wizengamot's judgment. But to no avail. The murderous bastard walked free in the end. The one time I was glad for Potter's celebrity to do something worthy, but nothing became of it.”

Hermione and Severus sat there together saying nothing for a long while as the fire slowly burned, casting flickering shadows across the rug and the walls, accentuating the lines in Severus' haggard visage.

After a while, Severus Summoned the bottle of alcohol. He dispensed with sipping from a glass and drank straight from the bottle. Hermione wondered if this was the type of drunken stupor Marf hinted at when Severus destroyed his previous chess set the night of her anniversary, when she had left him after a misunderstanding.

“Hand me the bottle, Severus,” Hermione gently commanded.

He glared at her up through a hank of hair that fell across his face, giving him a sinister look.

“When was the last time you ate?” she asked.

Severus waved his hand in a noncommittal manner, which could have meant, “I don't know,” “I don't remember,” “I don't care,” or “Go away.”

Hermione marched off to the kitchen.

“Marf? Marf!” she called out.

The house-elf presented himself with a slight bow. “Marf is so glad you are here to... to temper Master Snape's drunken mood.”

“Marf, when is the last time he ate?”

“Lunch time, just before he left for the trial,” the house-elf eagerly informed her.

Glancing at the clock, she noticed it was past nine-thirty.

“Go get a vial of Sobering Potion from his cabinet, and I'll fix something for him to eat.” There was no point in fixing something to put in his stomach if he was going to vomit it right back up, too drunk to keep anything down.

There was the thought of going downstairs and fetching Draco, but Hermione crossed that off the list of possibilities. She wondered if Draco was even more blind, stinking drunk, trying to drown away bad memories like his mentor was currently doing.

Finding the carcass of a partially-carved roasted chicken, Hermione fixed a quick and simple chicken soup with some noodles added, along with some carrots, celery and a small amount of onion. It was very simple fare, but something easy on the stomach, which is what would be the best thing for Severus right now.

She ladled the soup into a bowl and found some bread to go with it before setting it on the kitchen table.

Walking back into the main room, Hermione regarded Severus in his pitiful state. She wondered if it was prudent to take Severus out of his drunken state and sober him up. Remembering how she was just a few months ago, drowning in her own drunken pity, she probably would have fought the idea of someone pulling her out of her despair she’d wallowed in like a pig in the mud. But 'Calleo,' as she knew Severus at the time, would have told her to buck up, get sober, stop pouting and do something instead of lying there in such a state. Now it was time for Hermione to do to Severus what he would have done for her when she drank too much and ate too little.

“Get up,” she commanded.

Severus cracked one eye open to balefully glare at her, in a manner that reminded her a lot of Crookshanks in a foul mood.

“You heard me. Get up!” She grabbed an arm and tried to coax him up.

“Have you got the fluxweed?” Severus slurred mockingly, stumbling over the syllables.

“No, but if I did, it would not have changed what happened today. I am sorry for Pansy's death, I am sorry her murderer got away, I am sorry that a whole lot of shit in your life has not gone as planned. Neither has my fucking world. But we are moving forward to do something about it. So get your drunken arse up out of that chair and come to the kitchen with me,” Hermione barked at Severus in a stern yet motherly tone.

“Fuck. Off.” Severus slurred while crossing his arms and jutting his lower lip out, and nearly fell out of his chair.

Hermione was livid that he used that tone and those words with her. But considering how drunk he was, and that the bottle that had been a third full when she went off to the kitchen was now empty on the floor, she wondered if he was so drunk he would even remember what he said to her.

“Have it your way.”

Hermione sat Severus upright in his chair before binding him to the chair. Then she charmed the piece of furniture to walk into the kitchen and set itself in front of the table with the still hot bowl of soup awaiting Severus.

“What... the...” Severus looked about the kitchen in confusion, wondering why he was in the wingback chair, but he couldn't move, his body too numb to notice his bindings. His confusion was further compounded by the fact he was in the kitchen, but he was still his wingback chair. Why was the wingback chair in the kitchen? He thought he was in front of the fire. Where did the fireplace go?

“Open wide,” Hermione announced before holding Severus by the jaw and pouring a vial of Sobering Potion down his throat. She’d had lots of practice forcing antidote down his throat recently, so this was comparatively easy considering he was too drunk to resist.

Severus sputtered and said in a low and slowly measured voice, signaling his sobriety, “Undo these bindings.”

“Are you done telling me to fuck off?” Hermione stood there with her arms crossed, her brows arched and her mouth set in a thin line.

“I did what?” Realization spread across his face at what he had done. “I am very sorry for speaking to you in such a manner,” he apologized sincerely, then went on to explain, “I am unaccustomed to anyone other than Draco dealing with me when I'm that drunk. I should have sent an Owl that you should stay home so you wouldn’t have to see me in such a state.”

“Severus, I would have come anyway had I known before how upset you were.” Hermione waved her wand and made Severus' bindings disappear.

“I would have preferred that you hadn't,” Severus retorted, unable to look Hermione in the eye at the moment.

“So what, you can suffer alone in pain without any comfort? To brave this... this… tribulation alone? No,” she said with conviction. “Before you came into my life, I suffered alone. And despite being some brave Gryffindor, my bravery did not lessen the pain and disappointment that weighed me down. And when I met you, just having someone to talk with, to share my burden, it didn't make the problems go away, but it made them less unbearable. My life is still full of pain and problems and shit and things that I'm scared of facing, Severus, but right now, you are the only bit of sanity in my life that keeps me going. You have been there for me, and I am here for you now.” During her diatribe, tears began falling down Hermione's cheeks.

Severus got up out of the chair and pulled Hermione into a crushing embrace. It finally dawned on him that Hermione was the one bit of sanity in his own life right now as well, and it scared him how he might fall apart once he left. He was equally frightened to think how Hermione needed him just as much as he needed her. In the past, needing someone this badly usually led to them being taken away from him. The difference now was that in time Hermione would not be taken away from him, he would take himself away from Hermione instead. It would be voluntary, by choice. He’d never had the choice presented to him before.

Hermione eventually pulled away to smile up at him with a tear-streaked face. “Now sit down and eat something before I bind you again and spoon-feed you,” she laughed weakly as she wiped her tears away.

Severus sat down and gratefully tucked into a simple bowl of chicken noodle soup, which is exactly all his stomach could handle at the moment.

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

A/N: Jelly in Britain is what we would call Jell-O in the States: fruit-flavored gelatin dessert.
As some of you are aware, I am involved with an upcoming Harry Potter conference called Leviosa (http://leviosa.org), being held in Las Vegas, NV July 7-10, 2016. One of the things they are offering right now during the four days of the conference is meet-ups slot times. I would like to poll to know not only of those who might be going, but of those going, who might be interested in a meet-up where I do a reading and hand out printouts of the next unbeta'ed three to five chapters to be published at the time of con (July 7^th, 2016). For instance, if I publish chapter 76 by the time Leviosa happens in early July, I would have print outs for chapters 77-79 or maybe chapters 77-81, pre-beta errors included, for you to keep depending on how many are interested. If there are maybe ten people, I've print five chapters, if there were dozens, then three chapters because the cost for printing would come out of my pocket, and printing for three chapters alone on cheap stock and simply stapled would run me about $7.00/copy, based on average chapter length. My chapters tend to run 10-20 pages long, so this would be at least 45 pages (three chapters) of fanfic you'd get an advance read of.
Is anyone interested in coming to Leviosa and coming to a reading and a sneak-peek with handouts? To vote yes, just reply in the comments simply “Aye.” That will let me know how many are interested in coming to Leviosa and want printouts, if any.
Tumblr does not have a polling system and my LiveJournal is f-locked, so this would be the easiest way to count.
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And They Didn\'t Live Happily Ever After