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To have loved, and lost (was Missed Chances)	By : professorflo Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 10775 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters within. I make no money from this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Remebrance
- 2-2.
- 3-3.
- 4-4.
- 5-5.
- 6-6.
- 7-7.
- 8-8.
- 9-9.
- 10-10.
- 11-11.
- 12-12.
- 13-13.
- 14-14.
- 15-15.
- 16-16.
- 17-17.
- 18-18.
- 19-19.
- 20-20.
- 21-21.
- 22-22.
- 23-23.
- 8
- 9
- 10
As the last of the lingering traces of firewhiskey in his veins evaporated, Snape crumpled once more to the floor in agony, both physical and emotional. The pain potion which he managed to scrabble around for and eventually tip into his mouth only took care of the former, and once he was free of it, the whole weight of his misery crashed down upon him. He was acutely aware of the emptiness of the house around him, the absence she’d left behind an almost tangible entity. The picture on the mantel piece him seemed to mock him, a pitiful reminder of the potential happiness he had been so quick to squander. The whole bloody house seemed to mock him for that matter the furniture that she had chosen, as abandoned and uncared for as he.

He’d never felt so lonely, not even during that terrible year as Headmaster.

Sobering up had been an awful idea.

Not that getting drunk again was a better one. Now that he was fully sober for the first time in over three weeks, the thought of buying cheap booze to get him back into the state he’d been in seemed far less appealing than it had a few minutes before.

He wasn’t sure how long he’d been there, curled up on the floor and soaking in his own misery, but the house was dark when a loud rapping at the door made him jump. For a moment his heart leapt with the thought that it might be her. But brutal reality set in all too quickly, and he knew that it would never be her. How could it be, after everything he’d done to her? The knock sounded again, and he debated whether or not to ignore it the way he’d ignored all callers since she left.

1 year, 11 months earlier

Severus lay in bed, waiting for his door to open silently and for her to enter. It would be the first time since that awful night that she would come to his bed, almost a month ago. He known he’d hurt her, more than before, not that he’d been any more capable of rectifying the situation, as he still wasn’t ready to admit out loud that there was anything wrong, let alone that it was his fault. But deep down, he knew that he’d crossed a line that night, one he wasn’t sure he could step back over.

Even so, he hadn’t expected her to go to such extremes to avoid him.

…

Three nights after the ball he’d gone to bed, expecting her to be there waiting for him. It had been the last night to complete the second of the required two copulations for that week, and as usual she had gone up early. But when he’d reached his room he’d found his bed as empty as it was every other night of the week that she wasn’t forced into it.

Assuming that she’d be along any minute he’d made his own preparations and climbed into bed, grabbing his new book off the bedside table to read until she appeared. It was a testament to the excellence of the text that he’d read for over an hour without lifting his eyes from the pages before realising Hermione still had not come.

Laying the book aside, he’d climbed out of bed, grumbling under his breath, and gone in search of her. He’ known from his own wards on the house that she had not left, and when he’d reached her door, he’d found it locked and warded. Judging by her lack of response when he’d begun to bang on the wood, she’d also erected a silencing charm. Fighting a rising wave of panic he’d retreated to his room before he’d wound up smashing through her wards and doing something he’d regret even more than his treatment of her earlier in the week.

Once there he’d begun to pace, confused and dismayed at the position she was putting him in. If they didn’t copulate as require by the Ministry they would investigate, wanting to know why. And if there was no good reason they might dig further into his marriage. There may be questions about the lack of a pregnancy, and even if he was able to convince them it was still early days there would undoubtedly be more scrutiny on them than before. And who knows what other things might be brought to light about their relationship. Gossip was always rife amongst Ministry officials, and Severus knew that talk about any of the Golden Trio, or even himself, invariably made its quick way to ears eager for a scandal to print.

He’d not known what to do. On the one hand he’d not wanted to shatter his already delicate relationship with his wife, but was the risk of an investigation worth it, especially considering the Ministry had the power to invalidate any of the marriages they deemed to be defective. He didn’t want to lose her. Even after everything that had happened between them, he’d do just about anything to stop their marriage from being dissolved. No doubt he’d be forced into union with some leftover hag in any case, and living with a wife that hated him was far better living with one that he hated.

But one thing had kept him from breaking into her room and fulfilling the Ministry decree. The idea of forcing himself upon her was so revolting that it had overcome his fear of losing her. It was hard enough when she was silent and still beneath him, but if she refused him completely he could not imagine violating her in such a way.

After an hour or so he’d eventually dropped to the bed with exhaustion, the feeling of pressure in his chest almost crushing him, the idea of losing her making him want to choke with fear. He’d barely slept that night, having woken from more than one half-remembered nightmare, and upon waking had found himself still curled up on top of his blankets.

Wearily he’d showered and dressed before making his way downstairs, the heaviness in both his body and mind combining to make it feel as if he’d overindulged in firewhiskey the night before.

He hadn’t known what he’d expected to find, but his breakfast, sitting as always on the kitchen table under a warming charm, waiting for him to appear, had not been it. The one bite of toast that he’d taken tasted enough like ash that he’d immediately banished the lot, plate and all, to oblivion, before descending to his lab. Not that he’d got anything done beyond checking on the couple of potions that still had to mature for a few days, as he’d been far too busy sulking in the dark.

For three days he’d barely saw sight nor sound of Hermione, although he’d not exactly been making an effort to be sociable either. His meals, however, had continued to appear, morning and evening, but each was scarcely touched before the rest was binned. A hollow feeling, not just from the lack of food, grew larger daily, low in his stomach. He knew that his appearance was becoming more and more frightful as he began to neglect not only his meals but his own hygiene, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. If he lost her, none of that would matter anyway.

Each night he’d gone to bed early, telling himself that he was just tired, and not just waiting and hoping that she would appear, but unable to sleep easily, or even concentrate on his book. It was just a matter of time, he knew, before the Ministry would start sticking their noses into their marriage.

And then, on the fourth morning, exactly what he’d been dreading had occurred: A Ministry owl had tapped at the window, disturbing his pensive stupor over another uneaten breakfast. With shaking hands he’d torn the red seal open, bile rising in his throat as he began to read.

A few moments later, the parchment had dropped to the table from numb fingers and had lain there, half-forgotten in the wake of the message it had contained, until Hermione returned some hours later.

Snape had, at some point, made his way into the sitting room, where he’d sat, dazed and bewildered, lost in thought half the day. The sound of her entering through the back door roused him, and slowly he stood to face the door through which he expected her to walk any moment. Motionlessly he waited, his ears straining to hear the crackling sound the parchment being opened enough to read.

When she’d finally appeared, her face had been pale and wan, but hard, as if expecting a confrontation. The parchment hung limply from her fingers. They stared at each other for a few moments, both unwilling to be the first to speak.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he ground out, unable to bear the silence any longer

Hermione sighed almost inaudibly. “There was nothing to tell, Severus,” she replied, her voice soft tired.

“Nothing to tell?” He’d stridden forward, grabbing her wrist and wrenching it up so the evidence of his displeasure was held suspended between them. “When did this happen?”

She’d winced briefly with the pressure of his fingers gripping her tightly, but otherwise had made no sign that he was hurting her. Severus relaxed his grip a little.

“I told you, nothing happened.”

Her unnatural calmness had only infuriated him more. “Then why does this letter tell me we’ve been excused from marital relations for a month.”

She’d pulled her hand free. “What do you want me to say, Severus? That I lied about the reasons why I needed a break from… this?” She’d gestured between them. “It’s not like I could tell them the truth, is it?”

He’d felt a wave of relief wash over him, although there were still questions he wanted answered before his anxiety could be assuaged. He pulled the letter from her hand to wave it at her accusingly. “You’re telling me you’ve deceived the Ministry? Should I expect the aurors to bang on the door to arrest us at any moment, or will this fiction manage to stand up to greater scrutiny?”

“You don’t need to worry,” she’d sneered back. “I managed to trade a favour with someone who would have even more to lose if they revealed our deal. The maternity unit at St Mungo’s will be receiving the full grant they requested, despite having already been warned that the application would be sure to fail. They won’t risk having to repay it all, not with the expected rise in births to come. And as for their side of the bargain, well, let’s just say they’re not exactly supporters of this bloody law, and can well understand the need for some respite from scheduled fucking.” She’d paused for a moment. “It does tend to take the romance out of it all somewhat, don’t you think?” she’d added, her voice bitter, before turning to leave.

“So… the child…?” he’d asked softly, all fight having gone out of him.

“There was never any child Severus. I assume you’d be relieved about that, in any case.”

He barely heard her climb the stairs towards her room, leaving him alone once more. Relief had coursed through him, although there was a strange twinge of disappointment that he couldn’t quite understand, considering he should have known there was no chance of a pregnancy. He’d sat back own in the chair he had occupied for so many hours today, automatically smoothing the parchment out over his lap as he tried to sort out his feelings. His fingers had unconsciously traced the words that had caused him so much distress; ‘…having recently suffered a miscarriage, the Ministry has excused you…”, but once he’d realised what he was doing he’d crumpled the letter into a ball, intending to throw it into the fire. At the last minute he thought better of it, realising that perhaps it would be needed in the future, and instead had thrown it into the seat she always occupied, and stormed down to his lab, where he’d proceeded to extract a bottle of firewhiskey from its hiding place and drink until he’d passed out in the single ratty armchair in the corner.

In its place on the chair a floor above, the parchment had slowly uncrumpled enough to reveal the odd half sentence, including the one which had so perturbed him until Hermione had revealed it all for the lie it was.

…

And now, those weeks apart at an end, Severus waited, torn between nervousness and impatience, for his wife to appear. His anxiety over her attitude and expectations as she returned to his bed were going to do him no favours, and by the time she did creep quietly into his room, he was so tense that he jumped out of bed to greet her, only remembering his nakedness when she stopped and stared in bewilderment at his strange behaviour.

His cheeks flushing a deep pink, he scrambled back into bed, abandoning his dignity completely when his feet tangled in the sheets, almost causing him to fall on his face. It was a few moments before he’d recovered his composure enough to look at her, so whether she’d found amusement in his clumsy performance he’d never know. Certainly there was no hint of mirth in her expression when he turned to face her.

She had already climbed in beside him, and was clearly in no mood to procrastinate, for, instead of pulling up the cover around her, she’d left it lying around her waist, and the lack of nightclothes left her naked to his gaze. Despite all of his earlier apprehension, he found his body responding eagerly to the sight of her. The last month had been almost unbearable, not being able to touch her after having become used to regular sex.

He reached out to caress her breasts, lowering his mouth to suck gently on one pink bud. He could feel her stiffen beneath him, and when he looked up at her, her eyes were closed but clearly not in pleasure, judging by the tension in her jaw. A desire to ensure her pleasure before his own led him to redouble his efforts at her breasts with his lips, gently running his fingers over the curves of her body. The small sigh that escaped her only encouraged him, and slowly his hand moved lower, until he was nudging her legs apart. But when he reached down to caress her hard nub she shifted, trapping his fingers so that he couldn’t continue.

“Please Severus… don’t…” She swallowed audibly. “…please don’t do that.” She turned her face away from him slightly, making it hard for him to read the expression in her eyes.

He felt something inside him harden. If that’s how she wants it… He tugged his hand free, and immediately her legs relaxed, easily parting once more as he moved over her to settle in between them.

“As you wish…” was his only reply before he slowly filled her. No longer caring for her pleasure, he only thought of his own as he thrust into her. Despite his earlier eagerness, it seemed to take an age before he felt his balls tighten, and looking down at her, her own impatience for him to finish was clear in the way she was staring fixedly at the ceiling. The feeling of accomplishment and relief when he finally emptied his seed into her was colossal, and he rolled straight off her onto his back, gasping with the exertion.

The sound of his heavy breathing was the only sound in the room for a minute or two. As the seconds ticked by, the feeling of awkwardness grew. Before he could say anything, however, she was gone, slipping out quietly, leaving his body satiated, but his need for her, strangely unfulfilled.
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To have loved, and lost (was Missed Chances)