Severus opened his eyes, hissing as he pressed a palm to his forehead. It took him a minute to orient himself with his surroundings, dawning realization followed by a muttered curse.
Had he fallen asleep in his quarters? His office, perhaps? Of course not. His drunken idiocy had brought him straight to the Room of Requirement… her room, to be more exact. He could still smell her on the sheets, the clean scent of vanilla mingling with the foul odors that emanated from his own clothing.
The latter made him nauseous, his stomach roiling as he heaved himself out of bed. He dragged himself to the bathroom, splashing cold water over his face.
Try though he might, he couldn't recall what happened after he'd left Hogwarts the night before. He remembered the Christmas dinner he'd been foolish enough to attend, and there were vague memories of an impromptu trip to Diagon Alley. Beyond that? Nothing.
Whatever he'd done, it had left him in a wretched state. His hair hung in greasy clumps, his face so haggard it looked like he hadn't slept in weeks. His clothing was rumpled, filthy, reeking of sweat and stale wine. It reminded him of…
Tobias.
With that thought, he stripped off his clothes, practically flinging himself into the shower. He scrubbed every inch of his body, not stopping until he was certain there wasn't a speck of dirt left.
Some things couldn't be helped. He'd learned that long ago, resigning himself to his overly large nose, his lank hair and sallow skin. But he'd always taken pains to keep himself clean, determined to distinguish himself from his slovenly father.
"Shampoo?"
The room provided what he asked for, a small bottle appearing on the shelf next to his head. He poured a generous amount into his palm, only to be assaulted by reminders of someone else entirely. That familiar smell, subtle, clean and sweet… it was the same shampoo she must've used, right here where he was standing.
No, he didn't know what happened the night before, but it was all too clear what hadn't happened. He remembered now why he'd gone to Diagon Alley… or Knockturn Alley, to be more precise. He'd been searching for relief, hoping that a Galleon or two might put an end to his frustration.
Had he changed his mind? Failed to find a willing partner, perhaps? Either way, those urges clearly hadn't been satisfied, his body reacting instantly to the visuals his mind conjured up. Hermione lathering herself from head to toe, drops of water clinging to her skin. To imagine her here beside him, his hands…
"No."
He spoke the word aloud, startled by its vehemence. With a quick jerk, he turned off the water, casting a drying charm before he reached for his clothes. They were still filthy, of course, but that was easily fixed. A couple of cleaning charms and he was fully dressed, scowling as he left the room.
Thankfully, he didn't encounter anyone on his way downstairs. He strode through his office, shooting a poisonous glance at the bottle of Firewhiskey before he headed down to his lab.
Brewing. Yes, that was what he needed. No drunken benders, no ill-advised trips to Knockturn Alley. This was a much safer distraction, clearing his mind as he chopped and stirred. He set several cauldrons to simmer, soothed by the heady fumes.
He had feelings for Hermione.
Part of him still resisted the thought, though he wasn't foolish enough to deny it either. After the night he'd just had…
"What, exactly, do you think she'll have time for after she spends the best years of her life breeding the next generation of Weasleys?"
He should've kept his mouth shut. Indeed, he probably would have if he'd been sober. As it was, the alcohol had loosened his tongue, not helped by the unpleasant realization that had been foisted on him. Hermione and Weasley. Weasley and Hermione. It had come as a shock, though at the time, he couldn't figure out why.
Now? He knew why. He'd been caught off guard because he'd spent the past few months deluding himself, part of him believing that the closeness between them actually meant something. Yes, it was foolish. Yes, it defied all logic, but still…
Still, it had been so easy to forget the reality of their situation. The way he'd come to rely on her, that kiss they'd shared…
"So we're agreed. It will never happen again."
Rationally, he'd known it was best to distance himself. He'd understood the repercussions if they were caught. He'd told himself it was impossible, and yet still, he hadn't been able to silence that little voice, the one that spoke of the future if not the present. Maybe when circumstances were different… maybe when she was out of school…
That voice had been subtle, one he hadn't even been consciously aware of until this moment. Now? He knew he had to put an end to it, knew that even the slightest glimmer of hope was something he couldn't afford to indulge. Hermione and Weasley. Just the idea of it turned his stomach, but what did that matter? She'd made her choice… a foolish one, perhaps, but it was hers to make. His feelings on the subject? Irrelevant.
Despite that, he couldn't muster any negative feelings toward her. What would've been so easy a year ago was impossible now. He was indebted to her for saving his life, but it wasn't just that. It was the reason she'd done it, not just once but twice now.
She cared.
That was his weakness, he realized. Those rare people who could actually make him believe they gave a damn… he set them apart in his mind, viewing them from a different, much more forgiving perspective. Cast in that light, he'd fully recognized Hermione's intelligence, her bravery and kindness, and above all, her determination to do what she felt was right. The idea of her squandering those qualities on Weasley, a mediocre, often selfish boy who couldn't possibly fathom…
No. He wasn't going to dwell on that any longer. The point was, she'd changed his life for the better. He couldn't help being grateful for that, even if nothing else could possibly come of it.
But that kiss…
He knew he should forget it. Put it from his mind, pretend like it had never happened. The problem was, it made even less sense to him now than it had before. If she was with Weasley… why had she done it? Why had she allowed it to happen? Why had it seemed like she was as affected by it as he was, her expression dazed as he'd pulled away? If she was truly happy with Weasley, content with her choice… why hadn't she mentioned their relationship over the past few months?
And she hadn't. Not once. Granted, he would've hardly expected her to confide in him about their future plans, but to not say anything at all?
Severus sighed, capping off a couple vials before he set them on the shelf. What a fool he was, casting about for glimmers of hope that didn't exist. No, she hadn't mentioned Weasley, but why would she? She must've known he couldn't stand the boy, a sentiment he was quite sure went both ways. She would've rightly assumed that the subject would be unpleasant, considerate enough to avoid it.
As for that kiss…
"I regret my actions, too."
It hadn't meant anything. She'd told him so herself. True, her initial reaction had led him to believe otherwise, but again, he had a bad habit of seeing what he wanted to see where she was concerned.
Clearly, he had to put a stop to that. Whatever he felt, whatever he wanted… he could no longer afford to indulge those feelings. It would be difficult enough to watch her leave in six months, not knowing when or even if he'd ever see her again. So much more than a student, a nuisance of a girl who'd somehow reinvented herself, becoming his closest friend…
That was what he was truly losing. All else aside, he'd come to depend on the relationship they had. No, not the one some small part of him had been foolish enough to hope for, but the one they had. To imagine a day when he'd no longer see her face, would never hear her familiar knock on his office door…
Emptiness. Boredom. Solitude. Dissatisfaction. He'd experienced all those things since she'd left for winter break, and that had only been a week ago. Accepting that as his permanent reality, doomed to spend months, years, even decades at Hogwarts alone?
He couldn't do that. Not anymore. Granted, he didn't have a clue where else to go, but reverting to old habits was no longer an option. Her presence or lack thereof, something that had changed deep inside him… whatever it was, he could no longer avoid the inevitable. It was time to move on, figure out what to do with this second chance he'd never expected to have.
Of course, that was easier said than done.
"You'd make a fine Death Eater, Severus. I'll speak to the Dark Lord."
"You'll be taking over as Potions Master, leading Lord Voldemort to believe you're acting as his spy. You'll need to supply him with useful information, of course, while carefully concealing the truth. That means you must continue to work on your Occlumency skills, not to mention…"
"You know how and why she died. Make sure it was not in vain. Help me protect Lily's son."
What the hell did he know about planning his own future? He'd always been given a single option, presented to him by whomever he was serving at any given time. What he wanted to do? He'd never allowed himself to entertain those thoughts, his path forever dictated by outside forces.
Even now, part of him wished someone would materialize and tell him what to do. Perhaps that was cowardice on his part, but he'd never experienced this lack of direction, didn't know how to cope with an uncertainty he'd never felt before.
Of course, he still had time to figure it out. For now…
Severus exited his lab, glancing at the calendar as he settled himself at his desk. Six more months until she left school, but more importantly, just eight days until she returned from winter break. Much needed solace, a welcome distraction…
Pathetic or not, just the thought of it made him feel better. He dipped his quill in the inkpot, forcing himself to focus on his lesson plans for the upcoming term.
"Did it hurt?"
"The first time?" Ginny said. "Yeah, some."
"But it got better, right?"
"Oh, yeah. It's wonderful once you get used to it. Brilliant, really."
Hermione hadn't planned on discussing what she'd done with anyone, let alone Ron's sister. There were few secrets in the Weasley household, however, no point in pretending it hadn't happened. Besides, she needed to talk to someone who understood the female perspective. That obviously didn't apply to Harry or Ron.
"I don't know. It just felt so… awkward."
Ginny shrugged. "Neither of you knew what you were doing."
"Well, he seemed to enjoy it."
"He's a boy. It's different for us."
"Yeah, I guess."
"Think about it this way," Ginny said. "You can't cast a charm just because you want to. You have to know the wand movements, which words to use and how you're supposed to say them. It takes practice to get it right."
Hermione couldn't argue with that logic, realizing she might've been too quick to judge. Was it really Ron's fault that she hadn't enjoyed it? It wasn't as if he'd had the chance to learn through trial and error.
"Mum and Dad will be gone tomorrow. They're going to visit Bill and Fleur at the cottage, so the four of us will have the house to ourselves."
"Really?"
Ginny nodded, flashing her a little smile. "Me and Harry…"
She didn't need to finish. Hermione could tell what she was thinking, cheeks pink as she got up to leave the kitchen. She and Harry would spend the whole day locked up in her room, no doubt, something she was obviously looking forward to.
Meanwhile, Hermione had been avoiding Ron for more than a week… or at least, steering clear of any situation where she might end up alone with him. She'd been dreading a repeat of what happened that first night, sex that was as painful as it was disappointing.
"It's wonderful once you get used to it. Brilliant, really."
Was Ginny right? Maybe if she gave it another chance…
"Ron, slow down."
They hadn't been alone for five minutes, and she felt like she was being mauled. He'd barely even kissed her, taking off his shirt as he used his other hand to unbutton her top.
"What? Oh, sorry. It's just…"
He trailed off, but she knew what he was thinking. He'd been waiting more than a week… why hold back now?
"We still have time," she pointed out. "Your parents will be gone all day."
"I know, but with you going back to Hogwarts…"
"I still need…" She hesitated, not sure how to articulate what she was feeling. "Just a little slower, all right?"
""Okay."
He kissed her again, showing a little more restraint this time. She'd just begun to relax when he slid a hand over her breast, pinching her nipple.
"Ow!"
"Sorry."
His groping was less painful after that, but she couldn't say she enjoyed it. By that point, she just wanted to get it over with, annoyed by his obvious impatience.
Lack of experience wasn't the problem. It was his unwillingness to learn. He didn't seem to care what she wanted, didn't bother to try and figure out what that was. Even when she made herself clear, telling him to slow down, restraint was a fleeting thing. Before she knew it, he was rushing her again, as if his pleasure was the only thing that mattered.
"Ron…"
"Hmmm?"
He barely seemed to hear her, breath coming in excited pants as he tugged on her pajama bottoms.
"Nevermind."
With that, she lifted her hips, sighing in resignation.
"Want to do it again?"
"No."
"You don't have to be rude about it," Ron said, yawning as he glanced at the clock. "Just figured… Mum and Dad won't be home for at least another hour. We've still got time for one more go."
Rude? If Hermione was trying to be rude, she would've pointed out that he didn't need an hour. Five minutes, maybe, and that was being generous.
"Not now," she said instead. "I'm tired."
"But we just took a nap."
"You took a nap."
"What were you doing?"
How was she supposed to answer that? Should she tell him that she'd been crying in the bathroom? That she'd had several epiphanies over the past couple hours, none of which boded well for their relationship? Or should she mention that she'd hated sex even more the second time around, thoroughly convinced that she never wanted to do it again?
"Just a bit of reading." She sat down on the edge of the bed, withdrawing a vial from her bag.
"What's that?"
"Contraceptive Potion."
"Contraceptive?" He frowned. "Is that for…"
"Pregnancy prevention."
"Oh, I didn't know there was a potion for that."
"Of course there is. How do you think…"
He hadn't thought about it. She could see it on his face, a lack of comprehension that she frankly found disturbing. Had he really had sex with her twice, all while assuming they weren't taking any precautions? Had he considered, even for a second, what the consequences might be? What if…
"I wouldn't mind, you know."
"Wouldn't mind what?" she said, holding the vial to her lips.
"If you didn't take it."
Her eyes widened, her stomach giving an unpleasant lurch.
"Ron… what are you saying?"
"I wouldn't mind having a baby. Might be fun, actually."
"Fun? You have no idea… I'm 19 years old!"
He shrugged. "You'd be 20 when it was born. Same age Mum was when she had Bill."
"I'm still in school!"
"Only for six more months."
"Pregnant at Hogwarts? Oh yeah, that sounds like a great idea. Running out of class to get sick, sleeping so much that it interferes with my studies?"
"Come on, it can't be that bad."
"How would you know?"
"Mum did it six times and she's never complained."
"I'm not your bloody mum!"
"Calm down," Ron said. "Honestly, it's not a big deal. If you don't want to do it right now, we can always wait until summer. That might work out better, actually. We could get married first."
"Married and pregnant… in six months?"
"Why not?"
"There are things I want to do, Ron! I want to continue my education, get a job, maybe even start a career! I'm not ready…"
"You're never ready," he interrupted, his voice sullen. "Not for anything I want to do. All you ever think about is yourself."
She stared at him in silence, an onslaught of memories flashing through her mind. She'd spent the better part of a year trying to be as unselfish as possible, allowing him to pressure her and make her feel guilty more times than she could count. She'd had sex with him for his sake, left crying in the bathroom because what she wanted hadn't mattered.
Then again, when had it ever mattered? Everything she cared about, all the things that were important to her? He'd never given a damn unless they benefited him in some way. When they didn't, he treated them with contempt, like her ambition was some sort of character flaw. It was as if…
As if he wanted her to be a different person.
"Ron," she said quietly. "I can't do this anymore."
"Can't do what?"
"This. You and me… it's over."
"What?" He stared at her, aghast. "Look, I'm sorry I said that, all right? I didn't mean it."
"It isn't that. It's just… this isn't going to work."
"Why? Because I want to have a family? That's what people do, Hermione."
She shook her head. "Not me. Not now, and not anytime soon."
"If you need more time…"
"I can't, Ron. I'm sorry."
"But why? Why can't we at least try to…"
"I have been trying! Maybe you can't see that, but I have. I've tried so hard, and none of it has done any good! We're too different, Ron. What you want, what I want…"
"But you love me. You do, don't you, Hermione?"
To her horror, his eyes filled with tears. Part of her was tempted to give in, if only to make him feel better. She'd been falling into that trap since the end of the war, sacrificing her feelings for the sake of protecting his.
No. Not this time. As much as she hated causing him pain, she'd be hurting him much more in the long run if she kept putting it off.
"I do love you," she whispered, "but not… not the way you love me. You'll always be my friend, but…"
"Your friend? After what we did a little while ago?"
"I shouldn't have done it. I wouldn't have, but I was hoping…"
"Hoping for what?"
"I was hoping it would change how I felt," she said. "It didn't."
"So you led me on? That's real nice, Hermione."
"I wasn't trying to…"
"You know what?" he interrupted. "Just leave. I don't know why you're being like this, but it isn't fair. I didn't do anything wrong. Sat here for months while you went off to Hogwarts, and I never complained, did I? I waited, just like you asked."
"I never said you did anything wrong. I just…"
"I don't want to hear it. Not until you change your mind."
"Ron, I can't change how I feel."
"Then get out."
"I'm sorry, I really didn't mean…"
"GET OUT!"
Hermione joined the others for dinner, doing her best to ignore Ron's nasty looks. Unfortunately, it seemed he wasn't the only one upset with her. She caught Ginny glaring at her a couple times, while Molly seemed intent on giving her the cold shoulder. Meanwhile, Harry did his best to pretend that everything was normal, smiling as he passed her the mashed potatoes.
"Looking forward to your final term?"
She nodded, pausing to take a bite. "I've been planning a new project for…"
"Of course she is," Ron interjected. "She doesn't give a toss about anything but school."
"That isn't true! Just because I…"
"Who wants cake?" Molly said brightly, rising from her chair.
"Me!"
"Me too!"
"I'll have some, Mum."
"Me," Hermione said quietly.
Molly moved around the table, serving a thick slice to each of them. The only exception was Hermione, who received a tiny sliver. She forced herself to eat it, resisting the urge to cry.
Less than two weeks ago, she'd thought she was coming home. Now the Burrow was as alien as it was unwelcome, making her feel like an intruder. Why? Because she'd broken up with Ron? Or was it because she'd failed to meet any of their expectations, proving she didn't quite fit into their big, happy family?
Either way, this wasn't the first time she'd been excluded because of her love life. Molly had done it before she'd even had a love life to speak of, punishing her over a bit of gossip she'd read in Witch Weekly. She hadn't bothered to ask for Hermione's side of the story, choosing to trust Rita Skeeter instead.
Trusting her own son was an improvement, Hermione supposed, though that didn't make her reaction less petty. A minuscule egg had been traded for a few crumbs of cake, both intended to hurt and humiliate.
"Thank you for dinner," she said as she got to her feet, "I'd better get to bed."
"Good night, Hermione."
"Night, Harry."
She stayed at the Burrow for a couple more days, hoping the others would come to their senses. Granted, she didn't expect Ron to get over it anytime soon, but she hadn't done anything to Ginny or Molly. Honestly, why was it any of their business?
It wasn't, though that didn't change their behavior. They continued to freeze her out, making her feel like a pariah.
She finally had enough on New Year's Eve, sitting alone in Ginny's room while everyone else celebrated downstairs. Harry had come up to check on her a couple times, which she appreciated, but it wasn't enough. If the others didn't want her here? She didn't want to be here either.
With that thought, she gathered her things, putting on her coat as she stepped out into the frigid night air. She headed to the Apparition point, unable to suppress her tears as she focused her thoughts on Hogwarts.