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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
- 90
- 91
- 92
“And They Didn't Live Happily Ever After”

Chapter Ninety
“The Answer to All Your Questions Can Be Found in a Lemon Drop”

Disclaimer: It was a dark and stormy fanfic; the disclaimers fell in torrents, except at occasional omissions, when the author might have been nudged by a lawyer on behalf of J.K. Rowling which swept up reminded them (for Rowling owns Harry Potter), rattling along the fandom, and fiercely agitating the community to remind them that they need to disclaim any ownership of Harry Potter and its concepts.

A/N: Disclaimer a parody of Edward George Bulwer-Lytton's, Paul Clifford (1830)

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Hermione had been approaching the conundrum of the lemons from Dumbledore's gravesite from a Potions angle. So much for all her touting about tackling problems and solving them from a fresh Muggle-born perspective. She had fallen into the same trap other witches and wizards had when faced with a problem she had criticized in the past to Severus, solving them from the one perspective they were familiar with.

Dumbledore was first and foremost a Transfiguration master. Hermione had been working with Potions ingredients for so long, she forgot to approach this from a perspective of a different discipline. If she had taken a Transfiguration apprenticeship, she probably would have attempted this months ago, before Severus left. It was now obvious that Dumbledore Transfigured something into the lemons growing at his graveside. She just hoped it was what she suspected.

Grabbing her wand from the bedside table, she took the lemon from Ron's hand. With a great steadying breath, Hermione prayed she was right, though if she was, it meant no one at the Ministry had done any proper research into the mystery of the lemons at Dumbledore's graveside, or they had eschewed Dumbledore's propensity for simplicity and assumed it was some extremely complex spell to crack.

“Finite Incantatum.”

The lemon began spinning in her hand, expanding and changing shape until it rested in its final form. It was a book of some sort. Hermione was sure she had seen the book before, but reading over the cover, there was no mistake as to what she discovered.

“Fucking hell, is that Dumbledore's will?” An incredulous look Ron was utterly dumbfounded was clearly painted on his face.

“Yes, go get Harry now,” Hermione said, her heart beating faster. This was the key to helping secure Severus' freedom, in addition to the memories he'd left behind for her.

Now she recalled where she had seen this book before. It was laying on the bed right next to Dumbledore, placed on the far side where she could not get a good look at it as she had scrutinized every object in Severus' memories for clues. However, in the memory, it was not titled, meaning Dumbledore was still finishing it, knowing he had not much time left.

Reading quickly through the pages, she scanned for any mention of Severus or Draco's name, smiling as she began to read that section of Dumbledore's will where they were mentioned.

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

Rising with the sun, Severus had a cup of tea and some juice before going for his morning swim. It had been four weeks since his episode in the clinic and still unexplained sleeping incident. He was ordered to go one week without any flying or swimming, to make sure he didn't have a relapse.

Donning his swim trunks, a shirt, and his sandals, with a towel thrown over his shoulder, Severus walked towards the beach.

'Red dawn at morning; Flyers heed warning.'

The morning sky was lit with brilliant hues of crimson, scarlet, ruby, vibrant pinks, and cerise. The near glassy calm of the ocean foretold of the quiet before the storm. It was a sure sign a tempest was on the way, and it would be there by night.

The local paper had reported Hurricane Darby had dissipated four days ago. They'd be struck with a much milder tropical storm instead of a full-blown cyclone later that day, with some thunder, lightning, and gusts up to sixty miles per hour. Severus still had time to get a swim in before the storm even began to blow. Even the Quidditch games were still being held later that day with the impending weather until it was deemed unsafe.

Standing by the shoreline, Severus laid his towel over a log, pulled off his shirt, and kicked off his sandals. With a flick of his wand, he cast a small lighted buoy about half a mile out to sea; the buoy would guide him out, before he would turn around and head back. After the past three weeks resuming his routine, he was finally back up to swimming a mile a day out in open waters.

The warm tropical waters rose up his legs as he walked out. With his wand secured in a loop on his swim trunks, he dove into the placid waters of the ocean. It was much easier to swim, since the swells were nearly nonexistent as he swam stroke for stroke out towards the beacon.

As he reached the buoy which hovered a few feet above the waters, he turned around and began heading back towards shore. A wind began to gently blow at his back, and the sea began to rise and fall. Swimming with the swells that were starting to come, heralding the coming storm, Severus was glad he was heading back.

Toweling off, Severus saw the waters had begun to churn and turn choppy. He was lucky he got his swim in when he did, as any later it wouldn't have been prudent.

On the way home, he swung by the doughnut shop run by a Cambodian wizard, Kosal, and his Muggle wife, Chantou. The couple had escaped to Malu Palekaiko when the Khmer Rouge took over their country in the mid-1970's. The Cambodian Ministry of Magic wasn't subject to the whims of one Muggle government changing to another, but they were less than sympathetic to Kosal's pleas to save his wife from the tyranny of the Khmer Rouge, as she was subject to Muggle government rule. Malu Palekaiko had been the couple's home ever since. Though the Cambodian government had changed yet a few more times, this latest time to a monarchy ten years prior, they had no desire to return.

As Cambodia and Vietnam used to be French colonies, many French baking and cooking techniques had influenced the cuisines and Muggles of those countries. Severus found he actually preferred the Cambodian and Vietnamese style of pastries and desserts, compared to the actual French baking techniques. He found that they used less sugar, and their croissants weren't so brittle that he choked on the flakes of buttery dough when biting down on one. These were softer and had a little more chew to them than the ones back at the Twenty-Four Blackbird Bakery in Diagon Alley, which were authentically French. Draco had turned his nose up at Kosal and Chantou's croissants, but that didn't stop him from falling in love with their apple fritters and poi donuts with coconut glaze and chopped macadamia nuts.

Picking at his croissant as he walked home, unable to wait since he'd worked up an appetite with his swim, Severus wondered if he should have included his address in his note to Hermione. He was intensely curious as to how she liked her bouquet of flowers she'd received a month ago. Did he get them to her before she found another wizard to cast her affections upon? Or was she still just as in love with him as the day they parted?

This had been something which had weighed upon Severus' mind since the dream of Hermione looking at him with disdain and denying her ties to him. Granted, he was convinced it was his own mind putting him in the reverse role of a nightmare he had had off and on over the years. Still, it was disheartening to remember the look on her face, when all he could ever recall was the look of love and adoration she gave him during their brief time together.

Once he got home, Severus planned to shower and open up his shop for a few weekend appointments he had, and to check on some potions he had simmering over the weekend. It was Saturday, and later that day Severus was going over to the Malfoys' home to collect on his wager.

Draco was making cassoulet, per Severus' recipe. The Finaus were invited, since Mounga and Rainbow were quite curious about a dish which could cause the two friends to openly erupt into hostile glares and harsh words, and break out into a near duel. It was also going to be an early birthday party for Ginny, as well, since her birthday fell in the middle of next week when it would be harder for everyone to meet for dinner.

Severus already had her gift purchased and wrapped. When he was lost for ideas, Draco had given him some suggestions, and Severus bought her some fancy hair combs she had been secretly lusting after and denied buying for herself.

Yes, despite the awful weather that was to come, it was still going to be a lovely day. A supper of fine food, celebration with friends, and having Draco make good on finally fulfilling his bet they'd made in the bar over who could grow a thicker beard within a month. For good measure, Severus had kept the beard, as a subtle way to gently gloat. He went to the barber for regular trims to keep it looking well-groomed – nothing like the ungainly, bushy mass Hagrid sported upon his face. Ginny even said it made his face more balanced.

Draco and Ginny had laid out their best tableware and linens. They had friends over for dinner occasionally, but those were usually casual affairs. Rarely was there an occasion – other than Christmas, Easter, and evidently Thanksgiving too, according to their American friends – for finery to be laid out and a formal dinner to be served.

Severus wore his best tropical wear – a fine pair of cream linen trousers, woven leather shoes in the same color, and a black, crisply pressed short-sleeved button-front shirt. For Hawaii, it was practically the same as wearing formal dress robes back in England.

The Finaus also wore their finest, with Rainbow in a formal floor-length floral muumuu of blue, yellow, and white. Mounga wore a multi-colored plaid sarong with golden threads woven in and a short-sleeved button-front shirt in a complimentary color with a matching plaid bow-tie, opting to leave the formal military-style jacket at home.

The first course consisted of pistachio, chevre, and baby spinach baked in a puff pastry, served with a light Gruner Veltliner. Severus appreciated the light mineral quality of the wine to counter the richness of the cheese. He was even more impressed to learn Draco was doing all the cooking that night, giving Ginny a much-needed break from the kitchen, and when asked, he admitted he wasn't using an elf service either. The one shortcut Draco took was the cake, which he'd ordered Mario to make. Draco had yet to work on his baking skills.

This was definitely a change from the Draco he used to know years ago. The head of the Malfoy family didn't seem quite so averse to cooking for himself and guests, as he now began to appreciate the glory of basking in the compliments of guests raving about one's cooking.

The second course was a soup made from roasted tomatoes. Severus knew this was Draco's silent, yet tactful, protest to the fact he was making cassoulet without tomatoes. There was a small amount of freshly chopped Thai purple basil and Italian green basil to add to the color of the course, accented with a swirl of white crème fraîche. It was paired with a Spanish Albariño, instead of a light red, as the salad course was next to cleanse the palate before the cassoulet.

As the conversation moved from the topic of Akela getting her driver's license while away at Muggle Camp that week to some of the newest island residents Severus and the Malfoys haven't had the chance to meet yet, there was a flash of lightning in the distance.

With that lightning strike, a witch appeared at the Malu Palekaiko Portkey office. She had taken a Portkey from San Francisco, since the idiots at the London Portkey office still had no clue where Hawaii or Malu Palekaiko were located, though that was a matter that would soon be rectified. Hopefully.

Marching into the tiny hut that was bigger on the inside, as fast as she could comfortably walk, the witch looked about for someone to help her.

A local witch with a long fall of brown hair and a name tag that said “Halulu” was filing away some papers when the newest arrival to the island cleared her throat.

“Excuse me, but I was wondering if you could tell me where I could find Severus Snape. He does live here on this island, right?”

Halulu put her papers down and came over to the counter. “Yes, but may I ask why you are searching for him?”

“Let's just say he's in big trouble,” Lavender said with great foreboding, a steely glint in her eye as she patted her swollen abdomen. It was obvious that she was close, if not already in her third trimester.

Lavender knew that gesture was highly misleading as to the nature of her visit, but she figured the gloves were off, and if this was a shortcut to get to see Severus face-to-face and give him a piece of her mind, then she was just fine with that. Besides, it was something a Slytherin would do, so he could probably eventually appreciate the resourcefulness of her tactics. Not immediately, but in time. Hopefully.

“He's having dinner over at the Malfoys' home.” Halulu's eyes were glued to the newcomer's abdomen, her face still slightly in a state of shock.

Mrs. Weasley knew exactly what Halulu was thinking, and the blonde didn't correct her assumptions.

“Draco and Ginny? Wonderful,” Lavender smiled sweetly, thankful this witch was willing to cooperate. “I'm sure they'll want to hear this too. I have some news for them from back home in England. If you'd be so kind as to give me directions to their house, I would greatly appreciate it.”

Lavender advanced up the street, in comfortable flat shoes and with a slight waddle. Her face had a grim scowl; the storm began to march onto the island right behind her as if she'd brought her own personal army with her. She was the harbinger of the cyclone coming to Malu Palekaiko.

“I must say, the substitution of giant granadilla instead of pear with the artichoke and shaved fennel was a delightful surprise. A wonderful marriage of European and tropical flavors,” Severus said with sincere praise.

It was a refreshing salad that hearkened to the original French salad which used pear as a sweet counterpoint to the other ingredients, and a perfect course to precede the cassoulet.

As Draco stood to clear the third-course dishes and Charm them to float into the kitchen before he served the cassoulet, there was a knock at the door.

Opening the door, Draco was stunned by the sight of Lavender standing on his front porch. He had not expected to see her, but before he could formulate any gracious salutation, he blurted the first thing that came to mind. “Merlin's bollocks, but you're very pregnant.”

Ignoring Draco's statement of the obvious, his old boss marched right in, turning her head from side to side to determine which hallway to walk down and confront the ungrateful twat who broke Hermione's heart.

Severus was swirling the last of the Cabernet Sauvignon Blanc that was served with the salad course, admiring the rosy color, when he noticed Rainbow quirking her head sideways to get a better look at the arrival of the newest guest.

Turning around in his seat, he saw Lavender standing in the door frame, a bouquet in her arms, looking very fecund.

“Miss Brown,” Severus said, just as startled as Draco at the sudden appearance of her upon the Malfoys' doorstep.

“Mrs. Weasley,” she corrected him.

Severus blinked in slight surprise that Hermione's ex-husband had made good on his promise. He was about to make a snide comment, asking if her new title was out of obligation for her condition, when Lavender marched right over to Severus, stuck out her arm, and spoke before he could casually cast his insult.

“Here, these are from Hermione.” She presented him with a bouquet of palm fronds and rudbeckia. As he took the bouquet, recognizing palm fronds symbolizing victory and rudbeckia for justice, she added, “And this is from Hermione as well.”

There was a loud crack as Lavender's palm made contact with Severus' face.

Rainbow leaned over and said quietly to her husband while staring at Lavender's swollen midsection, “Did Severus leave a 'package' back in England that he didn't know about?”

Mounga wanted to tell his wife to shut it, but he didn't have time as the fight erupted between Severus and this pregnant witch.

“What was that for?!?” Severus asked as he stood up from his chair, angry and confused as to why he was being assaulted with no clue what he had supposedly done wrong.

“Really? You want me to say it in front of your guests? Fine!” she huffed with righteous indignation. “How dare you dump Hermione that way, with that horrible bouquet you sent her. You positively broke her heart.”

“Wait! WHAT?” he thundered back, now even more befuddled by her comment. He put the bouquet on the table in order to not crush them with his rising anger. “I sent her a positively lovely bouquet, dripping with all those syrupy sentiments any witch would gush over!”

Rolling her eyes in dramatic fashion, Lavender countered, “Really? Abatina, laurel cherry, bilberry, fish geranium, and – the kicker – michaelmas daisy. And let's not forget the St. John's Wort for animosity.”

Severus stood there for a moment, quiet and still, but the seething rage behind his eyes told that his mind and emotions were anything but.

Very slowly and quietly, Severus ground out, “I told Naomi, NO SUBSTITUTIONS!”

There was a second Draco could have sworn fire was coming out of Severus' nostrils.

Breathing heavily, in order to stop himself from having a temper tantrum of epic proportions in the middle of the Malfoys' dining room, Severus began listing, “Cochorus for 'impatience of absence,' flowering almond for 'hope,' oak-leaved geranium for 'true friendship,' spindle tree for 'your charms are engraved on my heart,' and forget-me-nots. That's what I ordered, not this... travesty you listed.”

“Yeah, right” Lavender snorted with disbelief. “And what about that photo of you and that bimbo, Blanche, that Hermione and I saw of you in Obscure Oozes & Fabulous Fluids?”

Severus had to think about how an article meant for All About Apothecaries had wound up in that publication, then remembered that publication collected and republished stories from journals all over the world. He'd had no clue it would have wound up in a magazine that might be read in England.

“What was Hermione to think? The same day we get that magazine, your bouquet shows up at the office.” Lavender was still not convinced of Severus' professed innocence.

“Did you or Hermione ever think to ask perhaps the bouquet was the wrong one?” he asked through gritted teeth, getting into Lavender's face in a confrontational manner.

“Your damn note came with it! Your initials, your handwriting!”

“Then they attached it to the wrong damn bouquet!” he insisted. Thinking about it for a moment, all those flowers Lavender listed in the bouquet Hermione received would look very, very similar to the one he'd intended her to receive.

“You want proof?” Severus asked, folding his arms across his chest.

“That would be good for starters. And you didn't deny our guess about that bleached blonde bint, Blanche,” she added.

“She's a business partner, and I would no sooner sleep with her than I would with you. Or do you forget I turned down your offer for me to shag you years ago?”

As for Rainbow's little aside about Severus being the father of Lavender's baby, Mounga gave his wife a smug smile that she shouldn't jump to conclusions.

“You offered proof? I'm waiting,” Lavender said with hostile disdain, still not convinced.

The cassoulet had to wait while there was a march of six people, Severus in the front dragging Lavender by the hand as fast as she could dodder along, down the three blocks and one block over to Naomi's house. Mounga held his wand high above the group, casting a large Parapluie Charm to shield everyone from the rain that had begun to fall.

Pounding on the front door with his fist, Severus bellowed, “Naomi!”

The young witch ran to the front door and threw it open. “Don't bust it down. What's got your panties in a twist, Severus?”

“The bouquet that I spent considerable sums of money for you to order arrived. And I specifically said no substitutions. Instead, everything was substituted. Explain yourself.”

Naomi saw that there was a whole host of people on the large front porch, including the town judge, his wife, and the Malfoys, in addition to a witch she didn't recognize who was very pregnant. Naomi wondered if this witch by Severus' side was Hermione, considering what a romantic bouquet it was he'd sent her.

With her wand, Naomi Summoned the order slip and handed it over to Severus. “There. I did exactly as you paid me to do. Right there on the order, in big letters. 'No substitutions.' Happy now?” She crossed her arms and raised an imperious brow at Severus for banging on her front door and accusing her of screwing up her job.

Looking over the slip, it was exactly as he'd ordered, but Hermione had still received the wrong bouquet.

Turning to Lavender, with Naomi still there at the door eager to watch the exchange, Severus asked, “Did you think to go to the florist to see if there was a mistake?”

Now looking a bit more contrite, Lavender shrugged her shoulders. “What was Hermione to think? She thought you'd found out about her and Neville.”

Severus' face got very somber for a moment. “What about her and Longbottom?”

“Oh, bugger.” She hadn't meant for that to slip.

Rainbow decided to add the comment, “Well, Severus, it's not like you were any more chaste that time with Maria.”

Mounga really wanted to spell his wife's mouth shut, but continued to watch this train wreck of misunderstandings and tragic mix-ups unfold. He just hoped it was fixable.

In order to defend himself against the accusatory look growing in Lavender's eye, Severus said, “It was one time, and I instantly regretted it.”

“Well, that makes two of you, because Hermione has been wracked with guilt over that one time with Neville. So I guess you're both even.” Lavender made a great huff, now without any more ammunition to eviscerate Severus.

She had been thinking about the long tirade of anger she would unleash on him, but it now seemed that it was nothing more than a mix-up with no one but the people at the florist shop at fault, and some poorly-timed assumptions.

“Can we take this back to the house?” Draco prompted. “There is a cassoulet still waiting to be served, and I'm sure Lavender has more news from England she would like to share, other than catastrophic floral mix-ups.” Turning to his former employer – and hopefully future employer – again, he asked, “Would you care to join us for dinner?”

As much as Severus had been looking forward to this cassoulet for weeks, it had lost all flavor to him. Severus was still upset, contemplating of the pain Hermione was in thinking he had dumped her, and with a bouquet of flowers no less. Not to mention, he had feelings of jealousy imagining Hermione and Longbottom in bed, which brought up the guilt of his time with Maria. He could not savor the marriage of flavors in the dish, nor tell Draco he had made a cassoulet as fine as any Severus had ever made.

Over the main course, Lavender told everyone at the table about how Hermione had not only discovered Dumbledore's long sought-after will, but also took her case in front of the Wizengamot to grant Severus and Draco a full exoneration. Mounga offered the use of his Pensieve back in his judge's chambers when Lavender offered her memories of the trial for viewing.

Handing Severus and Draco each one of the famous lemons she'd brought along, she said, “Hermione and I both agree that Ron summarized the situation the best. 'Figures a wizard who would hide the Philosopher's Stone in a way a first-year wizard accidentally found it in his pocket would wind up giving hints about his will with a bad pun on his gravestone. Then the will would be solved with a spell covered in second year. So clever, only incredible dumb luck or incredible brilliance to stumble upon the simplicity to reveal it would be needed.'”

Though Severus thought Ronald Weasley to be rather dim, it was an astute observation.

The ex-Death Eaters both cast the spell, and their lemons turned into copies of Dumbledore's will.

Mounga was rather impressed, as that was the cleverest and most obscure way to hide one's will he'd ever had the chance to see in all his years in law.

They agreed, with the exception of Rainbow who didn't care to watch legal proceedings, to meet at the courthouse and view Lavender's memories the next day.

Dessert was served, gifts were given to the guest of honor, and the evening eventually came to an end. Mounga and Rainbow wished Ginny a happy birthday and expressed their regrets to Lavender that they didn't initially meet under a more pleasant situation. Before they left, Mounga took Lavender aside to speak privately.

Meanwhile, Draco and Severus cleared away the rest of the dishes. Ginny was suddenly overcome with a bout of fatigue and excused herself for a quick lie-down.

Draco walked the Finaus to the door and bid them goodnight, but not before they gave him another round of praise for his cooking and congratulations on being exonerated back home.

Lavender asked about local lodgings, since her plans had suddenly changed and she was staying for part of the week. Draco offered their guest bedroom, as it would give Ginny and her a chance to yammer on about pregnancy matters, and give Draco a sample as to what to expect living with a very pregnant witch.

“If you came here, but didn't expect to stay, what changed your itinerary?” Severus asked, while reclining on the couch.

Lavender, ensconced in a comfortable upright chair that was kind to her aching back, replied, “Well, I'm no longer averse to being in the same hemisphere with you, now that I know it was a mix-up and not your intent to hurt Hermione.”

Severus noted it was quite the ironic phrase for her to say, considering the history behind her involvement in her own love triangle with Hermione.

Draco noticed how Lavender phrased her answer. It had been their intent to keep their plans – for Lavender to open an Asia-Pacific office with Hermione as the head – a secret until later, when they would spring it on him as a surprise. He just hoped no other things would happen that would ruin this from moving forward.

Glancing over her shoulder down the hallway, Lavender wondered if Ginny should be present, but decided it might be best for Draco to figure out a way to break the news to her. But with Draco and Severus, she wouldn't varnish the truth.

“Hermione came upon the idea of how Dumbledore hid his will while she was recovering at St. Mungo's,” she began, but stopped when the cup of coffee in Severus' hands fell and shattered on the teak wood floor.

Draco cleaned it up with a swish of his wand.

“St. Mungo's? What was she doing there? Did she have a Potions accident?” Severus asked with great concern, panic creeping into his voice despite trying to remain calm.

Suddenly overcome with emotions, recalling the events, her hormones making her unable to remain calm, Lavender put her forehead in her hand. With her voice thick and trying to restrain her sobs, she said, “Alan Parker abducted Hermione, but Harry and Kingsley barely got there in time to save her.”

Severus and Draco were both in shock. They knew Alan Parker's name too well, having attended the murder trial of Pansy Parkinson. They loathed how the Daily Prophet's coverage of the trail hid Parker's name, only listing him as the “alleged murderer” or “possible suspect.”

In very slow and measured tones, Severus asked, “If Potter and Kingsley got there in time, why did she need to recover in the hospital?”

“Because the psychotic murderer kept rambling on and on and on about his other crimes besides Pansy's murder, including–” Lavender stopped upon realizing that the two probably hadn't heard the news.

“Who else did he kill?” Draco prompted her.

“Blaise.” She broke down in tears.

Draco conjured a handkerchief for the near-hysterical witch.

Draco didn't want to cry, but he did, upset over the death of another old classmate of his at this murderer's hands.

“Parker confessed to poisoning many others, too,” she added, in between the hitching of her breath. It's not that Lavender had any sympathy for those dead Death Eaters, but she was caught up in all the emotions of the moment.

Draco shook his head. “He was the one who must have poisoned Goyle then,” he assumed. He never imagined the wizard who'd mangled Pansy's body so gruesomely was the same one who had poisoned his old friend.

Severus was shattered. So many of his former students, witches and wizards once under his charge, gone by the hands of this monstrosity. And to think Hermione suffered by his malignancies as well – it nearly undid him at that moment.

“You haven't finished telling me why they allowed that butcher to put Hermione in St. Mungo's,” Severus prompted her again.

“One of the reasons why the sick bastard got off at Pansy's trial was for the fact that Moody wouldn't force him to take Veritaserum to confess. And Parker professed his innocence during her murder trial. But when he had Hermione, he kept rambling on and on about all the things he had done, gloating about them. The longer he went on, the more evidence Harry and Kingsley knew they would have to make sure he would never get out of Azkaban again, despite all the tricks he used to interfere with his first trial. What neither of them, especially Harry, counted on is Parker started out with such a lethal hex so quickly to begin with, considering how he bragged about watching the ones he poisoned die slowly, and the way that he was carefully methodical in his murder of Blaise and Pansy. Harry thought he could have stopped him before Parker cast the first hex, but at least stopped him once it was cast and then Harry saved Hermione.”

Severus recalled he promised Potter that should any harm come to Hermione, he'd strongly consider coming back to England to finish what the Dark Lord did not. But both Potter and Kingsley did what Severus would have done, gathering evidence and waiting for a moment to strike. As much as he wanted to personally kill Potter himself, he was thankful Potter had the evidence to bring this serial killer to justice. He was torn between heartfelt gratitude and seething anger at Potter. He was also feeling conflicted towards his old Order friend, Kingsley, as well.

“And the trial?” Draco asked, hoping it wasn't another farce like the one he and Severus attended for Pansy's murder.

“It was quick,” Lavender said with some bitter-sweetness in her voice. “They wanted to keep it out of the papers. And then there were other factors to rush it along that they wanted to keep quiet. Like the fact Alan Parker is Calpurnia Fudge's nephew. Harry also had a confession from Alan that he had blackmail material on the Chief Warlock, Rancelette. All that was reported was Hermione was attacked and survived. Everything else was a whitewash in the papers.”

Draco let out a groan of desperation, wondering if this could get any worse. For all the joy the pair of wizards should have felt that they were free, it seemed like such a heavy price to pay with this new news.

Lavender finished by saying, “Parker was tried and convicted to life in Azkaban without parole before Hermione even woke up three days later.”

“Three days she was out?!?” Severus screamed. “I thought you said Potter got to her right after that hex and saved her?”

“He did!” Lavender shouted back hotly. “She was healed very quickly, and she should have woken right away, but she was so strung out on Invigoration Draughts and Wit-Sharpening Potion, she went through some very heavy withdrawal. Albert was able to counter the withdrawal easily enough the first day, but we just couldn't understand why she didn't wake for three days. Not even the Healers at St. Mungo's could figure out why she couldn't wake. No poisons, no charms, no cursed items,” she listed off.

“Wait, what?” Draco asked, recognizing that listed of crossed off items. “When was Hermione kidnapped?”

Lavender had to stop and think for a moment, the past month a jumble of so many events, and the hormones from her pregnancy were affecting her normally sharp memory. “Erm... It was a Saturday night. If I remember correctly, the day right after the wrong vase of flowers was delivered on Friday the... ninth. Yes, flowers on the ninth, and kidnapped the night of the tenth. Just before midnight.”

Severus and Draco exchanged glances, wondering if it was just mere coincidence Severus was passed out for two days at the same time, with none of the Healers on the island able to discern why he couldn't wake either, or if it was something more.

Lavender missed the exchange between the two, given she was sobbing into her handkerchief, remembering the events and overcome with emotion once more.

Severus wondered if somehow Hermione and he shared some sort of dream experience, both adding their psyches to some ethereal existence. It would explain the look of cool detachment and loathing in her eyes when she stared down at him down in the mud. But despite everything, she could not kill him as bid. In the dream, she fought to save him, choosing a different course of action from the one he'd chosen in real life years ago. If Severus had defied the Dark Lord that night long ago and tried to save his wife, fighting his way out the way Hermione did with him in the dream, he and Gabrielle would have both surely died. Even Hermione admitted as much to him when he confessed to her about his wife's murder.

The bouquet and the magazine article made Hermione think he was casting her aside so easily; it was why she looked at him the way she did, if indeed they both shared the same dream together.

“It was good that you and Draco escaped England when you did,” Lavender went on. “He admitted to knowing who you both were, and had seen Hermione come and go to your flat Severus, several times. He was targeting both of you to satisfy some twisted plan to kill Death Eaters so people could go back to hating Muggleborns without feeling guilty about it. If Death Eaters were no longer around to remind everyone else about the war, then he thought people could easily slip back into old prejudices.”

Severus could take no more. The flowers, Blaise's murder, Hermione kidnapped and injured, her heart broken, the timing of their prolonged sleep, blackmail, stalking. It was too much.

Without speaking, Severus rose and stormed out of the room. The slamming of the front door signaled he had left, unable to bear listening to any more for now.

The storm was beginning its brutal assault upon Malu Palekaiko. Leaning against the wind, he staggered up the street back to his own home in order to seek solace in solitude. Not even bothering to cast a Parapluie Charm, Severus paid no mind to how the rain soaked him to the skin on the short walk home. He was physically numb to the sensation of the weather assaulting him.

Mindlessly ambling into his house, ignoring the mud and water he tracked over his clean floors, he stood and looked about his home. This house was built in hopes Hermione would join him some day. He felt confined and restricted by a house that now seemed far too large and far too empty for him to stand living in anymore. Severus had to get out of his home.

The shock of Lavender's news began to fade and was replaced with a seething anger at the world. Climbing up the steps to the back garden that had been recently cleared of growth, he stood defiantly, his face turned upwards against the wind and rain that pelted his face. Fists clenched by his side, he looked up at the tenebrous clouds, wondering why the Fates had picked him.

“WHY?” he bellowed at the sky. “WHY?!?”

Why did every woman Severus had ever felt any feelings towards been hurt, usually resulting in death. Lily, his first crush, killed by the Dark Lord because of the prophecy he'd overheard and relayed to his first master. Gabrielle, his wife, killed by his own hands because he'd had to choose between being a Death Eater and remaining alive, or choosing her and their child who would have still died shortly after him if he'd chosen differently. Now Hermione, the only one he had ever truly and deeply loved, abducted and nearly killed because of her association with him.

Severus fell to his knees, sinking into the sodden muck of freshly-turned soil. Falling forward, he began to beat the ground with his fists, screaming with futility at the life he had been dealt.

Sitting back upon his heels, he turned his face upwards and screamed with frantic violence, “WHY! WHY!!!” as he grabbed fistfuls of the iron-rich volcanic soil and began to beat his fists against his chest.

His screams were no longer questioning, but challenging to the pointless cruelty of the universe targeting him and him alone, like some sadistic child pulling wings from a fly.

Severus' screams were answered with a crack of lightning and roll of thunder in the distance.

In response to the universe's answer, he screamed back in anger, a formless shout for the lightning to come and take its best shot at him since he didn't care anymore.

The lightning followed the call and response with another bolt and boom, this time a bit closer.

Unable to bear the burden of knowing Hermione now hated him and he was, in his mind, the cause of her near death, a madness began to overtake Severus' normally sensible mind.

He and he alone was death to anyone he was close to.

((((INSERT ART HERE)))))))

His screams began to morph into wails, and Severus began to cry pitifully. Hands caked in muck, he palmed his face like a lunatic, smearing mud all over himself as he sobbed hysterically. It made no sense and neither did Severus anymore.

Somewhere in his grief-stricken and unhinged mind, Severus came upon the idea that maybe if he wasn't around anymore, maybe Hermione would no longer be in danger. The more his temporarily twisted mind analyzed the logic of it, the more it seemed sound at the time. He would offer himself up to the Fates, the gods, or whoever it was pulling the strings of his life in order to save Hermione. She deserved to live far more than he did. He was death made manifest, killing all those who got too close to him.

Hauling himself up out of the mud, he held his wand aloft and yelled, “Accio Peregrine!”

Severus' broom flew out of its cupboard and through the back door he'd left open. He mounted his broom, lifting off with a burst of speed fueled by his anger and determination.

Buffeted by the winds that were gusting stronger and stronger as the heart of the cyclone approached, Severus flew south and east, into the storm. He would fly into the vast Pacific until he could fly no more and let the ocean swallow him up, making himself an offering to the gods or the Fates, whoever would accept his offer. His sacrifice would hopefully be enough to appease them or it, and let Hermione live. Perhaps with his death, the ties which bound her to his cursed self would be severed, and she would be set free from future harm. Severus was bargaining for her life with his offered in her stead.

As Severus passed the three-mile marker buoys, delineating the boundaries of where the magic of the island once protected him, the intensity of the storm continued to increase.

Pele really liked Severus – not enough so that she'd take him as a consort, but he was a very respectful wizard who honored her properly. He brought her the nicest and freshest offerings, and had even been kind to her on that mountain trail. She didn't want him to go off and kill himself over a bit of a misunderstanding and bad luck. As goddess of not only volcanoes, but also wind and lightning, she used her powers to try to help Severus return to Malu Palekaiko instead of offering himself up as a sacrifice to her sister, Nāmaka, the sea goddess.

Severus was barely making headway against the winds that seemed to increase in their fierceness, as if trying to push him back home, but he soldiered on, determined to go out into the vastness of the watery desert to meet his death.

A bolt of lightning came down right in front of him, and he swerved as best he could, despite the fact that by the time he reacted the bolt was gone. Now on a new vector, another bolt of lightning struck closer to him, nearly causing him to lose his grip, but he held tight. It seemed as if the lightning was striking in a way to stop him from reaching his destination beyond.

Leaning forward, he urged his broom onward, faster, when a twin strike of lightning came down just off the tip of his broom and blinded him temporarily. Blind and off-balance, his ears echoing from the thunder's deafening crack, he barrel-rolled and splashed down into the ocean.

The swells of the churning and angry ocean tossed Severus about at its whim. He was still close enough he could barely discern the island in the far distance lit up by flashes of lightning. He floated to the top of a swell before a waved crashed over him, submerging his head under the water. As he popped back up, his head breaking the surface of the water, he barely had a chance to catch his breath before another swell rose and fell, causing another white-capped wave to crash over his head, pushing him down beneath the waves once again. His lungs fought for air as the salty water slammed against his face, forcing him to swallow and inhale the sea.

Severus realized this is what he'd flown over the ocean to do, to surrender to nature, to bring release to his suffering and protect Hermione from danger. As he stopped treading water, the ocean greedily took its offering. The current's cold claws pulled him down deeper and deeper into its inky, crushing oblivion, like some great unseen beast about to devour him in its obscurely fathomless maw.

His water-logged lungs were hurting, but he found he could not exhale and finally let go, as if there was some spiritual cord tied to the center of his being that would not let him slip away. With the increasing pressure around his ribs, his chest burned and his heart felt like it would nearly burst as it thundered with each beat in his chest.

Suddenly, Severus was overcome with an urge to live.

The ex-Death Eater had not survived two wars and years in fear of the Dark Lord to finally give up when he was finally free from his servitude. He had not given up after the Death Eater Decree took his freedom from him once more. Alan Parker had been stalking him in hopes of killing him someday before he escaped, and Severus would not die to satisfy Parker's plans. Hermione, despite her loathing of him, had not fought to clear his name only to have him kill himself in a moment of grief-stricken madness.

Severus kicked against the pull of the current that was trying to drag him still deeper into its bottomless depths. Each kick of his legs was a fight against the vast ocean pressing down from above, trying to keep him submerged. Each stroke towards the surface was his hand reaching out towards the need to see Hermione again.

Breaking the surface of the water, he expelled the air from his lungs and breathed in the sweetness of life, even if it felt like there was an iron band about his chest as he coughed and sputtered. Reaching for his wand which was still secured in the loop on the side of his pants, Severus lifted his arm above the water to summon his broom when another waved crashed over his head, knocking his wand from his hand.

Another wave crashed over him, just as he rose to the surface once more. He could not see his wand in the dark of the night, as it was masked by the choppy waters. He did see another familiar stick of wood. With all his might, he swam against the current and grasped onto his broomstick.

Once mounted upon it, the swells rose and fell about him knocking him over a few times as Severus tried to kick up out of the water. He failed the first two times, but succeeded by the third and shot up out of the water, just as Iakona, Mounga's son, had taught him. Circling about, he spotted his wand amid the flashes of lightning, being tossed about the waves. He scooped down, picking it up out of the water, securing it once more.

Now determined to live, Severus began to fly back towards the island, but the fiercest part of the storm was directly over his head.

Severus was nearly pushed from his broom twice by the gusts and torrential downpour that seemed to come at him sideways, stinging his face and skin through the fabric of his slightly torn clothes, as it pelted him.

Exhausted, he strove on towards shore that was now even harder to see through the sheets of water that obscured his view.

Unable to determine exactly where he was flying towards, he just kept heading towards the island that jutted from the sea in front of him like an undefined black mass against more blackness of the sea.

He saw that he was flying directly towards a spot nicknamed “Chum Reef” for the sharp rocks and coral that would chop you up if you were unlucky enough to get caught in those swirling waters.

As Severus was nearing shore, a sense of relief washed over him. He had made it back, and his grip loosened. A bolt of lightning struck the tip of Severus' broomstick and the handle shattered, stunning Severus.

A limp figure fell towards the reef below, the ocean eager to welcome back the prize it had temporarily lost.

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

A/N: Evil cliffie! MUWAHAHAHA!

I have commissioned Perselus/Patricia Demoraes (http://perselus.deviantart.com/) to do a piece of fan art to go with this chapter, "Madness." You can view it here: https://65.media.tumblr.com/6fd0f6fb80e72abb5a3cc51a15994fc4/tumblr_oczsdi4odj1ugsuuho1_1280.jpg

Big round of thanks to JuneW and Cygnus, my beautifully talented betas.

Technically, Hurricane Darby dissipated officially on August 1, 2004. Its remnants, a tropical cyclone, hit the Hawaiian Islands on Wednesday, August 4, 2004 with 2.61 inches falling in Honolulu that day, a new record, but for the purpose of this story, I fudged it by a few days. I do like to keep my astronomical and weather records as accurate as possible for my readers, though.

Yeah, Yeah, I know I said no new canon from HBP or DH, but inclusion of Severus overhearing the prophecy works too well not to include in this chapter.
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And They Didn\'t Live Happily Ever After