A/N: This was a difficult chapter. My father came down with the virus, and I wasn't comfortable writing this portion until I knew he'd be ok. Thank you for your patience. 3

XoXo Lisa

Chapter 9

He found her in her childhood bedroom. There were clothes belonging to the both of them lying on different surfaces in the room. She hadn't slept in days and so neither had he. She was dressed, her makeup done. He'd never seen her look so pretty. It was unfortunate that the occasion was a sad one.

"Hermione," he said softly, tapping on the open door with his knuckles. She didn't react other than to look at him through the mirror of her vanity. She toyed with a stray curl that refused to be subdued in the twist of hair at the back of her head and he noticed that she rocked gently back and forth. "They're waiting on us."

"I'm not going," she murmured. He stepped into the room and stood behind her. Carefully, he tucked the curl into place in the twist.

"Why not?"

"If I go down there-if I go to that funeral, it'll mean he's not coming back." He opened his mouth, searching for the right thing to say.

But nothing came.

There was no right thing.

"Baby, he's not coming back whether you go or not." He wasn't sure why he kept doing it-calling her pet names. It just came and he let it. New tears filled her eyes and fell silently down her cheeks. He took her by the hand, pulled her to her feet and into his arms.

"I don't know how to do this," she sobbed into his robes. He still wore robes, despite this being a muggle event. He wasn't sure how to answer. So he just let her cry until she pulled away with a sharp nod of her head and allowed him to lead her down the stairs by the hand.

Heaven bend to take my hand

And lead me through the fire

Be the long awaited answer

To a long and painful fight

She sat between Severus and her mother, each of her hands clasped in both of their laps. She didn't cry anymore, but her mother sniffled next to her and dabbed at her cheeks with a handkerchief. The funeral was in her childhood living room. Only the three of them and her father's parents were there, along with the rabi overseeing the funeral. Hermione noted how tired he looked from staying up all night with her father.

Truth be told I've tried my best

But somewhere along the way

I got caught up in all there was to offer

And the cost was so much more than I could bear

In front of them was a simple pine box, closed. Inside of it was her father. He would be draped in a simple white shroud. Hermione adjusted the scarf covering her hair while the rabi sang songs from the Book and prayed over the pine casket. The rabi placed his hand above where her father's head would be and his song grew louder before his words faded off into silence.

And then she cried again.

We all begin with good intent

Love was raw and young

We believed that we could change ourselves

The past could be undone

"He's a rather strange fellow, wouldn't you say? I don't think he's Jewish." Hermione sat alone in her chair now while her mother and grandparents spoke. Severus excused himself to the loo. Her grandmother spoke in a voice that she probably thought was hushed but carried around the room.

Yeah, well I don't keep kosher. Not all of us can be perfect, Gran. Hermione thought bitterly from her own little bubble.

But we carry on our backs the burden

Time always reveals

In the lonely light of morning

In the wound that would not heal

It's the bitter taste of losing everything

That I've held so dear.

"I'm not sure what's going on between them," her mother said a little more quietly. "But he seems to be concerned for her, so I'm happy about that."

"He's much older than she is, isn't he?" Her grandfather said suspiciously.

"Well," her mother said, trying to sound patient and understanding. "Our Hermione is an adult now."

"I suppose at her age she should think about settling down," her Grandmother said. Having heard quite enough, Hermione stood up and left for the kitchen.

Though I've tried, I've fallen...

I have sunk so low

I messed up

Better I should know

So don't come round here

And tell me I told you so…

Severus found her digging through the cupboards. She'd shed the scarf that was covering her hair and seemed to be intent on finding something. But she wasn't exactly a tall woman. He wouldn't even categorize her as 'average height' and she struggled to reach the top cupboard. He quietly reached over her and opened it. She pulled out a bottle of wine and went to the cupboard below it for a glass.

"Should you be drinking right now?" He asked, and immediately regretted it. She glared at him, foregoing the glass, and took a drink straight from the bottle.

"I'm not sure where you were for the last two hours," she said sarcastically, "but I just buried my father." Hermione took another drink. "And then I had the pleasure of listening to my very devout grandparents nitpick my choice in men. So, yeah. I think I should be drinking right now." She drank again and as she tilted her head back, he watched with flushed cheeks as an old scar at her throat convulsed with her swallow.

He wanted to hold her, but something about her stance told him to give her space. So he did.

The kitchen door swung open and Hermione's mother poked her head through.

"Is everything alright in here?" She asked. Her eyes were red and swollen and her cheeks were splotchy. Hermione took another deep drink from the wine bottle.

"Smashing," she said sardonically. "Are you all finished discussing my life choices now?" Her mum crossed the room and took the bottle from her.

"I know this is difficult, darling, but I need you to keep it together." Hermione sighed and nodded. "As it is, I have to be here alone tonight. Some pleasant company during the day shouldn't be too much to ask for."

"Sarah, if I may," Severus interjected. "You could stay with us." He felt Hermione's eyes on him and feared he may have made an error in judgement until she reached out to squeeze his forearm.

"That's a brilliant idea," she said. Her mum's eyes brimmed with tears and, at a loss for words, she nodded and pulled them both into a crushing hug. Severys patted her shoulder and cleared his throat uncomfortably when she let go.

"It's not much different from the last time you visited," Hermione said in a weak attempt at conversation. Truth be told, her home was in shambles. She hadn't cleaned up since hearing about her father's death and furniture was still topsy turvy as she'd left it. "Well…" with a wave of her wand, things righted themselves and broken bits found their way to the rubbish bin.

"Mum, I'll show you to the guest room," she said and led Sarah up the stairs. Severus figured everyone could use food in their stomachs and began piecing together something for dinner.

"This is it," Hermione said awkwardly, standing just inside the door of the guest bedroom where, not too long ago, Severus had been staying. Sarah ventured in, placing her bags heavily onto the bed.

"Darling, you know I can't not ask." She said after they stood in silence for a moment.

"About Severus," Hermione finished her thought. Sarah nodded.

"When I spoke with you on the phone, you were, well, less than thrilled about him being here with you." Hermione shuffled her feet.

"Things have changed." She said simply.

"I'm concerned. Don't look at me like that, young lady, I'm your mother and I have every right to worry." Hermione chewed her lip, trying to find the right words to say to put her mother's mind at ease.

"He takes care of me." She said softly. "The minute he realized he was stuck here, he made it his mission to make sure I'm healthy. He worries and he cares." She paused and moved to sit down on the bed next to where her mother stood. " I've never had that before. At first we meant for things to be casual but...I just don't think it is anymore."

"A man who goes to a funeral with a woman is not trying to be casual, Hermione." Sarah smirked down at her daughter, tucking a stray curl behind her ear. "Your father and I intended to 'just be casual,' too. You see how well that worked out." She chuckled and tears began to fill her eyes again.

"I miss him," Hermione whispered.

"So do I. He was so proud of you." And that was what broke Hermione. She covered her face with her hands and shook with sobs while her mother wrapped her arms around her, pulling her head to her chest. A knock on the door pulled them apart.

"Apologies for interrupting, but dinner's ready." Severus said, looking out of place in the doorway.

"Thank you," Hermione hiccuped. "I think I'll just turn in for the night."

"You've had nothing but wine in your stomach for two days. Come eat. I'm not asking." Severus admonished. Hermione stood, shoulders squared defiantly, but went downstairs quietly.

"Thank you," Sarah told him as she passed, and he got the impression she wasn't thanking him for dinner.

Hermione was quiet at the table. Severus watched her carefully with some concern. She was paler than usual and her eyes drooped more than once. With their plates cleared, and with some satisfaction that she'd had some nutrition in her, Severus allowed Hermione to head back up the stairs to their room. Sarah offered to tend to the dirty dishes and suggested he turn in, too. She suspected she would be up for a while yet, so he accepted her offer and allowed his legs to carry him up the stairs.

To her.

She was undressing slowly and he found himself leaning against the doorframe to simply watch her. He revelled in the idea that this woman was his, that he could just stand back and...watch. For however short a time they had together, he was going to soak it all in. She turned to him, then, her expression unreadable. But she was exhausted. Oh, he could see the deep, bruise-like circles beneath her eyes and couldn't help but close the distance between them and brush against those purplish circles with his fingertips.

"Are you alright?" He asked, and felt very stupid for it. She shook her head no, told him to be quiet, and pressed her lips against his. He kissed her gently, his arms closing around her ribs. She pulled away to lift his shirt over his head and kiss down his stomach. Her fingertips brushed the top of his trousers.

"Hermione," He said, taking hold of her hands and pulling her back up to face him. "We're not doing this tonight." She chewed her lip, her cheeks flushed, and she nodded,

"I suppose you're right. We should sleep if we hope to be useful at work tomorrow." He looked at her skeptically.

"You're not going to work tomorrow," he said firmly. "You're staying here and resting. I can't believe you would even consider-"

"I have bills to pay!" Hermione snapped, and he felt the energy between them change drastically. Her shoulders rose and tensed, and her eyes grew wide and upset. He placed his hands on her shoulders, steering her to the bed and pushing her until she sat down.

"Alright, listen. We need to have a conversation about this, but right now you need to sleep. There's no use in letting every small thing upset you, and I don't think I've done anything to earn the tone you keep using." She opened her mouth to respond, took a deep breath, and then closed it again. With a sharp nod of her head, she stood back up and crawled into her side of the bed. He peeled his trousers off and climbed in next to her.

Normally her feist and fire would have heated him, as well. Normally, her tone and challenge would have made him want to challenge her in return. Tonight, they were both tired. Tonight, he was profoundly worried that she was working herself up into a stress that she wouldn't be able to come down from.

He laid awake for a long time, watching her sleep through uneasy dreams. He laid awake until he heard Sarah use the shower and then flip through channels on the television in the guest room. He laid awake until a crushing darkness took over the clouded sky outside, making the darkness in the room feel thick enough to swim through. And he laid awake until her 0530 alarm rang next to her and he had to reach across to turn it off.

When he got up, he was quiet but she still stirred and sat up. Neither of them spoke, but as he dressed, she wrapped her arms around him and pressed a kiss to his scarred back. He felt that maybe this was her way of apologizing. He finished dressing, tucked her back into bed, pressed his lips to her forehead, and left for work.