A/N: This is my first time ever tackling FanFiction. I have written other short stories but have made a resolution to write more and actually publish some stuff online. Feedback is more than welcome. This story is loosely based off the myth of Hades and Persephone. I was wondering what Hades got up to while Persephone is away so I decided to write it out as a fanfic centering around Severus and Hermione. I own nothing in the JKR world, I just decided to dabble with the characters.
Each year like clockwork she journeys out into the world, the perfect balance of witch and muggle. She's needed there, she says. She puts her brilliant mind to use there, blending small amounts of magic with muggle technology or medicines to help cure their ills or make their lives easier. She works equally hard in our world, making it a more tolerant place for people like her and creatures most wizards see as beneath us.
With her she takes her warmth, her smile, the smell of sunshine, flowers and warm breezes. She takes away all that lights up my world, for I cannot venture with her there. I am too much a recluse now after years of seclusion, of dark deeds and oaths, of walking the knife's edge between light and dark. I was never social anyway, not that she has ever minded, she's not a social creature either but she also can't stand to be cooped up. So, like all happily married couples- we compromised. She would split her time equally between isolation here with me and her life outside of both me and our magical world. I still get to see her sometimes while she's away but the opportunities are rare. I loathe leaving the castle for anything, and she is busy making the world a better place. She says this will be one of those summers where letters will be the only contact we have.
So for the next six months I will be a crueler, colder, more unfeeling, being than I usually am and throw myself into my work and research. I set my glass down with a sigh, and stare for another moment into the long dead embers in the grate, then slowly drag myself through the door to our room. The thought of sleeping in our bed alone makes me feel ill and a fresh wave of misery washes over me as I slide between the cool sheets. I look to her nightstand and the emptiness there mimics my internal feelings. It looks foreign to me to see it without her wand, a book and her usual teacup.
Her scent lingers here but it makes the loss of her warm body and copious curls even more acute.
I couldn't tell how many days or weeks had passed, for all I knew it had only been hours. Time was meaningless, I spent my days in a blurred haze over a vast amount of cauldrons. I'm not sure how I hadn't ruined multiple batches of potions. Or blown myself up. My focus hasn't been up to par lately and I know it. When I'm working I can shuffle my feelings behind shields, but I miss her sitting on an empty work station, I miss her ideas and suggestions, and I miss the way her eyes blaze when she's passionately debating a point with me.
Minerva keeps me company of course, she always does while my wife is away. It's probably on my wife's orders that the irritating tabby comes to check on me at all. She ensures I'm fed and healthy, discusses research with me, we play chess. Anything that passes the time. I got a letter today from my wife, her small script sprawled across pages of parchment as she told me everything she had been doing lately, she dedicated multiple pages to how much she missed and loved me. Her scent clings to the parchment and I can hear her voice reciting the words, see her brow furrowed as she writes. I know she has cried over this letter, her longing for me is as clear and as acute as my own. There are small drops on the parchment where the ink has blurred with her sadness. I read and re-read the letter each day until I get another. I write her back, though mine is much more concise.