AN: I think I broke Mollysister. I really do. Oops.

Simon headed to his room feeling like he was floating on air. His Clara was the most beautiful, sweet-natured woman in the world, and he was the luckiest man alive. He felt as if there was nothing he couldn't do, nothing he couldn't accomplish. Fate had bowed down to his wishes and made them reality.

He smiled, knowing that there was nothing more he wanted. He was content. He had his beautiful Clara, and together they would help guide and support his young Nigel toward his own fate. Sometime in the not-too-distant future, he would have his own children to fuss over, and his life would be complete.

He sighed, savoring the taste of their first kiss, stolen in the garden earlier and swiftly followed by their second, third, fourth, and fifth, before he remembered he was a gentleman and put a hasty end to things. He'd been a little angry at himself for his lack of restraint, but Clara had assured him she had felt the same way.

There would be no long, drawn-out, engagement. They would marry in a few weeks in a quite ceremony, and then they would give in to their mutual attraction at the proper time. Until then, they had agreed they would not spend much time alone together. Neither one seemed very good at moderation.

He was pulled from his thoughts by the sound of crying. He stopped at the head of the hallway and looked down the long corridor. Light shown from under the drawing room door, but the crying sounded farther down. He walked the carpeted hall until he found the source. Behind Hermione's closed door, he could hear a sound that was a cross between a cry and a laugh, slightly hysterical sounding, and occasionally muffled.

He raised his hand to knock, but stopped. One did not knock on a lady's door at such an hour. It must be nearly four in the morning. He looked back over his shoulder at the light coming from the drawing room and headed back that way. He turned the knob and pushed the door open to see Severus.

He was sitting in his shirt sleeves on the settee with his head in his hands and his elbows braced on his knees. He looked the picture of despair.

"Severus? Has something happened?" He walked farther into the room and closed the door behind him. "I heard Miss Granger weeping and I—"

Simon became aware that once the door was closed, the room became preternaturally silent. He looked about, and saw Severus's coat, discarded in a heap on the rug. He walked closer and bent down, picking up a silk flower and a hair comb. The flower was half purple and half gold, as if caught in a state between the two colors. He looked over at Severus and took in the state of his clothes, his half-tucked shirt, his rumpled hair. His heart started a slow steady thud as he put the pieces together with the wretched sound of Hermione weeping.

"What have you done?"

Severus finally raised his head from his hands and gave Simon a look of such utter misery that Simon's blood grew cold.

"Tell me this is not what it looks like… Tell me my mind is running wild…"

Severus just dropped his head back into his hands, and Simon nearly exploded from his sudden rage. "Tell me what you've done!"

There was no reaction. It was as if Severus wasn't even aware Simon was in the room anymore. This enraged him further, and he reached down and grabbed Snape by his waistcoat and hauled him up until he was staring into his beloved mentor's shocked face.

Simon realized he was taller than him. He'd never noticed it before. This man, who had been such a towering figure of esteem, was suddenly just a skinny man with a face full of shame.

"Tell me it wasn't Miss Granger," Simon hissed. "I may go to hell for wishing this fate on a housemaid, but I beg you, tell me it wasn't Hermione that you despoiled on a couch like a common bit of tail!"

Snape dropped his eyes and said, "I cannot."

Simon recoiled, pulling his hands away as if they were burned.

"You bastard," he hissed. His mind filled with the sound of her crying, and he snapped. "WHY?" he screamed. When no answer was forthcoming, he pulled his right arm back and swung.

Snape stopped him, catching his wrist mere inches from his face.

"You'll want to rethink that, boy," he snarled in a deadly voice.

Simon belted Snape across the face with his left fist, knocking him back onto the settee and throwing himself down on top of him.

A gentleman would have met him on open ground with fists raised and plenty of warning. This man here had taught him everything he knew about being a gentleman. It was as if, through his own despicable actions, Severus had called off all the rules. For the first time in years, Simon was glad he hadn't been born a gentleman. His sudden fury needed an outlet and this was it.

His head snapped back, he hadn't felt the blow as much as heard it ring in his skull, but he ignored it and drove his fist into the older man's ribs.

Simon may have been bigger, but Snape was feral. It took only moments for Simon to be pinned to the floor, with Snape, wild-eyed and kneeling on his chest, jamming his wand into his chin. His face was a mask of fury, terrifying and awesome. Simon truly saw the Dark wizard hiding inside his father all these years and wondered if it would be the last sight he saw.

"Why?" he asked in a soft voice. "Why would you do such a thing?" His voice rose of its own accord, and he grabbed at the wand, unable to dislodge it. "She cared for you. She has been nothing but good to you and this house, and this is her payment? Why would you do that, you bloody bastard?"

Snape's face curled into a rictus of furious pain.

"BECAUSE I LOVE HER!" he bellowed. "Because I was drunk! Because I thought you were going to ask her to marry you, and when I found out I was wrong, I lost my fucking head!"

Simon was stunned. His grip on Snape's wand slackened, and he grimaced in pain at Severus' obvious desolation.

"Oh, Severus… How long?" he asked quietly. "How long have you been in love with her?"

Snape pulled back off him and sat down hard on the floor, knees bent and arms resting atop them. The table had been turned over and the settee had been shoved several feet in their scuffle.

"I don't know," Severus replied in a frail voice. "When I examine that question too closely I find the answer terrifies me." He scrubbed his hands through his hair, and Simon watched the layers of pain, confusion, and self-loathing roil across his face. "She is all I have been able to think about for so long. I stopped lying to myself about my feelings for her when I thought you had fallen in love with her as well."

"Me? Why didn't you say anything?"

"What was there to say? I would never stand in the way of your happiness, Simon."

"No. Instead you would let me trample your own and punish us by being a bastard. What a fool you are," he replied, sitting up and rubbing his jaw. Snape's blows had come so fast he barely remembered them. He leaned forward and plucked up another flower from the floor.

"Did you… hurt her?"

Severus let loose with a horrible little laugh. "Not in the way you fear. If she is crying now, it is because I was… less than warm when it was done." He made a gagging noise in his throat, and said, "I panicked. I knew I was about to start weeping and make a fool of myself. I pushed her away before she could see it." He sighed. "I cannot win for losing." He shook his head and dropped his chin towards his chest.

"I did not force her, Simon. She… she gave herself to me." Snape's face twisted with self-recrimination. "She's never denied me what I craved. As a child, it was respect, when there was none to be had. Then there was this unquenchable faith. She believed I was more than I was and there was no shaking her conviction."

He waved a hand back at the settee. "And then there was this. She wanted me, Simon. She said she loved me. She looked at me like I was... God help me, I'm one and forty, and I still feel like that unloved boy." He dropped his head into his hand and shook it. "I lost myself. I lost myself, and I ruined her."

Simon wrapped his arm around Severus's shoulders. "But you love her, and I know she loves you. It can be fixed, can't it?"

Snape nodded his head. "I will ask her to marry me in the morning," he announced in a gloomy voice.

Simon looked at the miserable man and thought he'd begun to understand. "This is about that damnable Lily isn't it? Tell me you are not going to let that evil creature ruin another marriage!"

Severus's face contorted. "No. Lily is gone. Her ghost ceased to torment me when I fulfilled my obligation to her son." He dropped his head. "It's Elspeth, actually." His voice was a broken whisper. "I held Hermione in my arms and was so bloody happy and sated, and it was all so bloody wonderful and glorious, and I suddenly realized I didn't deserve it. How can I possibly be allowed to love and be loved, after denying Elspeth the only damned thing she wanted all those years? What if this cursed life of mine hurts Hermione as well? I wanted her so much, but I am the last thing she should have."

"Oh, Severus… You mustn't do this to yourself. You are so close to what you deserve after all this time!"

Snape raised his head up and stared at Simon with grief etched into his every feature. "She died for me, Simon. She left you and the children because she couldn't stand the idea that I might have been hurt and alone out there somewhere, and she fucking died! She lied to them to protect me! They cut her and beat her and severed her fucking spine, and she never told them a thing. She drowned in her own blood because of me." His voice broke, and he sobbed, "Because I didn't put enough effort into letting her know I was alive. Surely there was a way? I killed her, and I didn't realize that I loved her until she was dead!" He clenched his fists and pressed them to his eyes. "I didn't think it was love because what I felt was so different from Lily. Gods, I'm a fool. I was too stupid and too broken to understand the difference between love and madness. How could I tell? No one ever loved me back until she came along, and I chose to think she was deluded."

Simon threw his arms around him, and Severus folded in on himself and fell against Simon's chest.

He clung to him and rocked as they cried for the lost woman with the powder-blue eyes and hair the color of wheat.

"How can I possibly be allowed to have Hermione?" he whispered. "Why couldn't I have just lied to Elspeth, if it was only going to become a truth in the end anyway? I hurt her, Simon. I hurt her more than the Death Eaters did."

"No. That's not true at all. She understood, Severus. She accepted what you were limited to. I won't lie and say she didn't wish for more, but she never regretted a thing. It was war. By all logic, you should have left us all to starve and stayed to your mission. You found a way to save us. She knew that.

"Between Napoleon and your Dark Lord, how many in Britain are mourning their dead still? You are not alone. But life goes on. Life must go on. How long did Elspeth mourn her Henry, before she threw herself into loving you? A day? A week? He was a bastard, yes, but she loved him once. She was a practical girl. She would not deny you this happiness."

Simon stroked Severus's hair out of his face and handed him his handkerchief as Severus straightened up. "It only comes down to whether or not you will deny yourself this happiness. You cannot marry another woman with a ghost shadowing your every thought. Not again. You didn't hurt Elspeth; Lily did. Don't let Elspeth hurt Hermione; she would have hated the very thought."

They lapsed into a long silence, until Severus let out a heavy, shuddering sigh. He turned to Simon and asked, "I assume Miss Clara accepted?"

Simon smiled and looked down. "She did."

Severus reached out and picked up Simon's hand and held it tightly in his own. "I'm glad. I'm sorry if this spoiled your moment."

"Oh, I had my moment. Never fear."

Severus gave him a half-hearted chuckle. "She loves you?"

"Completely."

"Good."

Simon clenched Severus' hand. "Hermione does love you. She told me so herself."

"I know. I could see it, once I was finally bright enough to trust." He turned back to Simon and asked, "How hard was she crying?"

"I won't lie, it wasn't good."

Severus turned away and stared into the distance. "I'm frightened, Simon. I seem to have a knack for killing the women I care for."

"The war is over, Severus. You saved whom you could. More than you should have. But you cannot save any of us from our ultimate fates. Everyone dies in the end, don't they? Elspeth's years with you might have been short, but they were the best she'd ever had. She told me so herself."

Severus sucked in a deep breath and turned his face toward the door, letting it out slowly. Simon was struck silent by the raw expression on the man's face.

Severus slipped into Hermione's room and found it in total darkness. The curtains were drawn tight against the night sky. He walked quietly over to the bedside table and was placing the vial he'd brought on it, when he realized the bed was empty. He straightened up and looked around, pulling out his wand and casting a quiet Lumos.

He found her sitting at her dressing table, and his breath rushed out.

She was calmly seated before the mirror with one foot on the seat cushion and her arms wrapped around her knee. She appeared to be naked, but for the loose dressing gown that had slipped off her shoulders and fallen halfway down her back. Her soft, pale skin was visible in the cold light under the thick, dark hair that cascaded around her. Her heart-shaped face, with her luminous eyes, was gazing at him without expression in the mirror. She looked every inch the wild witch she should have been.

He was struck with a desire so strong it felt more like pain. He was thankful for the potion he'd taken to help him over the effects of the alcohol he'd consumed; at least he wouldn't make things worse.

He cleared his throat and held up his hand. "I brought you a Healing potion," he said clumsily. "I was afraid—I thought I might have hurt you."

"You did," she replied in a cold voice, staring at him in the mirror with candid assessment. "But not in that way."

The guilt that speared through him was pain. "I should go," he said, turning and hurrying back towards the door.

"Stay," she commanded.

He stopped in his tracks and turned towards her, with his face to the carpet.

"I'm so sorry, Hermione," he whispered.

"I thought you would be eventually," she replied in an emotionless voice. "I thought it would take longer. Perhaps even a few weeks after I was gone."

His head came up swiftly. "Gone?"

She studied him without expression.

He didn't like the coldness of her face in the blue light of the Lumos, so he spelled the candle on her table into flame. She stared at the small blaze. The warm golden light revealed the swollen eyes and the tracks of her tears, now dried.

"You didn't think I would stay, did you?"

"Yes," he blurted. "I will go to the vicar in a while, when the sun is up. We can marry Monday morning."

"Is that your idea of a proposal?"

"Hermione—"

"The answer is no, Mr. Snape."

"What?" He stumbled forward until he was just behind her and dropped to a knee. "Hermione… I'm very sorry I hurt you. I was wrong. So terribly wrong. But I want to make it right!"

"By marrying me to protect my honor?"

"Yes!"

"No."

She gestured towards the candle and the flame snuffed out on its own, leaving them in the cold light of his Lumos again. He blinked.

"I am no longer a poor Muggle governess, Mr. Snape. I am a witch, and I do not need to marry anyone to save my honor."

He stared at the smoking candle until the small ember blackened and died. "How…?"

She gathered her dressing gown around her and rose from the seat. He followed her up, backing away.

"How? How did I put out the candle? Magic, Mr. Snape. My magic. I realize being able to snuff out fires with a headache isn't much, but it was what I started with before. Once I replace my wand, Uncle Mercury can help me with my studies." She tightened the sash and lifted her chin, staring directly at him with disdain.

He wanted to douse his wandlight—hide from that look in the darkness. Instead, he used it to light every candle in the room.

He met her stare and quailed. He could read her at last. Her eyes were truly a window to her soul again, and he could plainly see that her outer calm was a ruse. She was seething with fury.

"What changed?" he whispered.

"I accepted myself for who I really am," she said. "My block, Mr. Snape, was caused by my desperate need to be a good Muggle. Hiding my nature from first my parents, and then the world. In choosing to be with you, I accepted myself for who I really am. Uncle Mercury was correct. You were my safe place. Acceptance was the key I lost. I freed myself."

She folded her hands together in front of her and tilted her head to the side. "And now I have accepted who you really are. I admit I was a fool. I only heard what I wanted to hear. I told you that I had loved you since the Ministry Ball, and you told me that you'd wanted me for just as long. I missed the part where it was apparent that you were only interested in sexual congress, despite Simon's warning that your heart would always belong to Lily Evans. But that is just as well. You have always been able to teach me the lessons I most needed. I shall always appreciate it and think fondly of you when I am gone."

Gone. There was that word again, stabbing him through the heart.

"You can't leave," he hissed.

"I can. I will spend the day packing and leave in the evening on the coach."

"No… You mustn't! Where would you go?"

"To Otterwold."

"This is foolishness!" he snarled. "You must marry me!"

"Did you, or did you not, perform a Contraceptive Charm before the grand finale?"

"Of course I did."

"Then there is nothing to hold me here."

"But what about Grace? Nigel? How can you just leave them like this?"

"If you are going to try and hold me here by some Muggle standard of behavior, that is a poor excuse." She flung her hand out toward the windows. "Most governesses are tossed out of the home once the master of the house has had his way, because they are no longer suitable to be near his precious children!"

"STOP IT!" he shouted. "I did not use you for personal gratification!"

"Did you not?" she bellowed back. She barked a bitter laugh. "Well. That is, indeed, good to know. But even if you had, that would have been a far lesser offense than what you did do."

He tilted his head, confused. "What else did I do? What could possibly have been worse? I don't understand. "

"That much is plainly obvious," she said in a voice trembling with rage. Her anger rose and the air seemed to crackle around her. Her face filled with fury as she shouted, "You cast me aside as if I was meaningless!" Her hands clenched into fists that she raised out to her sides, making her look like a diminutive Boudicca. "You had your way with me, for whatever motive, and then you turned away as if I was now useless!"

Snape raised a placating hand to her, watching as her hair lifted up around her face. His heart started to slam in his chest. Her magic had come back with a vengeance. Spontaneous magic was dangerous enough in a child. Hermione was no child, and Snape was afraid she could snuff out far more than a candle flame.

"Miss Granger, you must—"

"Silence! I will be heard! You once told me that being extraneous to events in life was to be preferred. Well, to that I say, 'Go to hell, Mr. Snape!' I have spent my entire life being extraneous! You cannot know how that feels!"

He flinched from the pain in her eyes. He took a step closer and reached out to her. "I assure you, Miss Granger—"

"Don't you dare say you understand! When you were a child you were a legend because they noticed you! When you were imprisoned, you had to fight because they noticed you! When you were in school you were bullied because they noticed you!"

He could feel magic gather around her as her anger grew.

"When you were a Death Eater, you were noticed, Mr. Snape! Lily noticed you. Elspeth noticed you. Harry Potter and that thrice-damned Voldemort noticed you." The magic grew so thick it became visible as it shimmered in the air. "No one ever noticed me!"

He reached out and grabbed her shoulder. "Hermione, listen to me, you must—"

"NO!"

She threw her hand up at him, and Snape felt himself lifted up and tossed across the room like a ragdoll. He slammed up against the wall. His legs nearly buckled out from under him, but he managed to remain standing as he tried to catch his breath. He shook his hair out of his eyes to see her bearing down on him. She was wild with years' worth of repressed grief and anger and beyond all reason. He lifted his wand but couldn't bring himself to use it. He had done this. He had brought this upon her. He deserved whatever she did to him.

The sound of pounding footsteps preceded the door flying open and suddenly Simon was there, standing in front of his father in his shirtsleeves, smelling of bruise paste, with his arms splayed to shield him.

"Hermione, stop!" Simon said in a firm voice. "You don't want to do—"

Snape saw Hermione's eyes and knew she wasn't even aware Simon was there. She was gone far into her own pain. He saw her arm lift, and he threw his own arm around his son, swinging him to the side as he raised his wand and shouted, "Stupefy! Protego! "

Simon and Severus were blinded by the magic that crackled against his shield as he heard her hit the floor hard. When it dissipated, the room was filled with silence.

Simon stood up slowly. Snape hadn't even realized he was still holding his son's weight on one arm.

"What the bloody hell was that?"Simon whispered.

Severus sucked in a deep breath before walking over and kneeling down next to her unconscious form.

"That was a woman scorned," he replied.

Simon scrubbed his hand through his hair before coming over and kneeling down as well. He twitched her dressing gown over an exposed leg. His voice was thin and small-sounding, as he whispered, "Is she—"

"No. She's just sleeping until I wake her."

An even smaller voice called from the doorway. "Will she be alright?"

The two men turned to see Nigel and Grace peering around the doorframe.

"She'll be fine," Snape replied in a voice far more calm than he felt.

"What happened to Miss Granger?" asked Nigel.

"Her magic came back," he answered, as he scooped her up into his arms and stood. "It surprised her, and she didn't know how to control it."

He looked at Simon. "Take care of the children."

"Where are you going?"

"Manchester."

"Severus, don't—"

The rest of Simon's words were lost as Snape spun away to try and fix the woman he had broken.

Next one coming very soon...