A Better Time.
FairyTale Of New York belong's to the Pogues and JK own's Harry Potter, so please no sueing. I have run this threw the spell cheeker quickly, but their are going to be mistakes. if anyone wonts to bata, go ahead. I'm Dyslexic so it should make this intresting. This was written in the space of half an hour befor I went to pick up children from school, I had this song on and well it's a festive favort of mine. the story is crap, but the song rock's.
Severus and Hermione have their biggest fight ever on Christmas Eve, can Snape sober up in time to tell his wife he was sorry, but more importantly, will she except his apology.
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Laying on the floor he stared up at the stars above him. he was surprised that he could see any stars at all, but then it was bitter cold, meaning no cloud, funny he should know that, or even think of that. He blinked and hoped his vision would stop blurring long enough for him to get up off the street. Music from a near by Pub interrupted his thought's and he wondered if he had Apperated to the right street.
It was Christmas Eve babe
In the drunk tank
An old man said to me, won't see another one
And then he sang a song
The Rare Old Mountain Dew
I turned my face away
And dreamed about you
She looked outside, she couldn't see him, not that she had expected too. the argument they had just finished had been one of the biggest yet. she shivered and wondered how tanked up he would be when he got back home tonight, if he even came home.
Got on a lucky one
Came in AT eighteen to one
I've got a feeling
This year's for me and you
So Happy Christmas
I love you baby
I can see a better time
When all our dreams come true
She would be waiting for him, curled up in the blanket he'd given her a few year's ago, it was red and green, she had made him like Christmas, had told him that if it meant nothing else then it at lest let them meld their house colour's together, red and green, gold and sliver, without arguing their colour's decorated their quarter's and tree.
They've got cars big as bars
They've got rivers of gold
But the wind goes right through you
It's no place for the old
When you first took my hand
On a cold Christmas Eve
You promised me
Broadway was waiting for me
She was curled up on the chair, waiting for him, he would return smashed out of his face and proclaim he was sorry, it was all his fault, he would lash out, telling her he wasn't good enough for her, he was tainted and evil and far too old for her and then he's say he was sorry, tell her she was his only spark of light. she knew why he did it, at first it had been easy to except and brush off, but every year it got worse, and the thing was she didn't know how much more of his self loathing she could take, after 5 year's it was wearing a little too thin for her likening.
You were handsome
You were pretty
Queen of New York City
When the band finished playing
They howled out for more
Sinatra was swinging,
All the drunks they were singing
We kissed on a corner
Then danced through the night
He rolled over and climbed to his feet making his way to word's the music, he got to the doorway and stared in, their were many people drinking, smoking, chattering, their was a young couple by the music box, dancing to the song, holding each other lovingly, his memory flashed to another night, 5 years ago at a Ministry Ball.
The boys of the NYPD choir
Were singing "Galway Bay"
And the bells were ringing out
For Christmas day
"Dance with me?" she asked him, he looked down at her, dressed in Red and Green, the dress flowed to the floor, he glance back to word's her date to find him gone, he looked back to her shining, warm brown eye's and nodded, she took his hand and lead to him to the dance floor.
"you do know I'm in love with you don't you" she told him halfway threw the song, he smiled down at her for the first time in his life, she looked up a him and smiled back as she leaned foreword and brushed her lip's ageist his.
You're a bum
You're a punk
You're an old slut on junk
Lying there almost dead on a drip in that bed
You scum bag, you maggot
You cheap lousy faggot
Happy Christmas your arse
I pray God it's our last
She watched the snow as it begin to fall and decided enough was enough. she would leave, she couldn't keep doing this, year after year she put up with it, she told him many times that she loved him, but he never believed her, not truly and slowly he was killing her, like he was killing himself inside. so she got up and back he bag, desideing to floo to Harry's.
The boys of the NYPD choir
Still singing "Galway Bay"
And the bells were ringing out
For Christmas day
He turned around and knew what he had to do, he pulled out a small flask, it's content swirled from a misty sliver to a dirty green, he uncapped it and downed it in one go, the sobering up potion was fast acting, and before he had finished it, he found himself sober. He took a deep breath and apprated home, to his wife, whom he hoped was still their.
I could have been someone
Well so could anyone
You took my dreams from me
When I first found you
I kept them with me babe
I put them with my own
Can't make it all alone
I've built my dreams around you
"I made a mistake in letting you love me" He said quietly from the doorway, she froze halfway across the room, her bag lightly hitting her side and she slowly turned to see him, he was framed in the doorway, he looked awful, but for once, he was achelly sober.
"a mistake?" she whispered,
"I do love you" he hung his head low for a minute and she sighed, turning back to the fire place.
The boys of the NYPD choir
Still singing "Galway Bay"
And the bells are ringing out
For Christmas Day
"But it's one mistake I'm happy to have made...please don't leave" he asked, she knew if she tuned around that was it, she steeled herself to be strong, but she couldn't do it, her hand froze halfway to the floo pot by the fire, she took a few deep breath's and turned around, he was stood just behind her, she'd never herd him move.
"Ok" she nodded, he took a deep breath and put his arm's around her, she dropped her bag and hugged him back, tightly. maybe their was hope after all.
"Merry Christmas Severus" she whispered into his jacket, he stroked her head and kissed the crown.
"Merry Christmas Hermione" he whispered back.
¬FiN¬
