"Hermione," Harry said, watching her angrily stomp around his house, causing Emma to get more and more agitated. "Perhaps you should sit down."
Hermione whirled around. "I can't! I'm so angry! I mean, the fact that he had the audacity to even come here! Why is he even trying! He clearly doesn't want me anymore! I'm just... I... Damnit, Harry!" She burst into tears. The combined sound of her sobs and Emma's wailing was enough for Ron to come downstairs, his bright red hair disheveled.
"What in the bloody hell is going on here?"
Harry opened his mouth to respond, but Hermione broke in. "I'll tell you," she said, her voice shaking with emotion. "The bastard who is my husband decided to drop by. Apparently, he thinks a few pretty words can erase from my memory what he did to me last night, what he said to me, he is mistaken. He has torn my heart, my very soul, apart. And he came strolling up to this house today, excpecting what? Me to go running back into his arms, forgiving him? Why was he here Harry? Why!?" Her hysteria had reached a fever pitch.
"Honey, honey, honey," Ron said, unsure of what else to say. He gently pulled the still crying Emma out of Hermione's grasp and kissed her on the forehead before passing her to Harry. Harry walked out of the room, murmering comforting words in the child's ear.
Ron pulled Hermione into his arms. She had begun crying again. He simply held her. "Hermione," he said gently. "I can't believe I'm about to say this, but maybe you should listen to him. I mean are you positively sure he meant it."
"He looked me right in the eyes, Ron."
"But he may have been lying. Or angry..."
"No, Ron. I've seen that expression on his face before..."
Hermione walked down to the dungeons, to where she and Severus had met during her times at Hogwarts. She had graduated recently, and was helping him clean his rooms before he returned to his home for the summer. 'That's true love,' Hermione thought to herself, smiling. 'Nothing says romance like cleaning out moldy barrels of armadillo bile together.'
And she was doing just that, working silently alongside Snape an hour later. They didn't always talk when they were together. And even though she was bent over into a barrel of armidillo bile, arms covered in the crust she had been dilligently scraping off, she was still happy. "Severus," she said, her voice echoing around her, "I must admit this isn't how I thought we
would be celebrating our freedom from Hogwarts." Hearing no snide reply about her work ethic, or his responsibilities, she pulled herself up, and was surprised when she saw him standing right next to her. "What?" she asked. The expression on his face was unreadable. She pushed a some sweaty curls out of her eyes, and looked at him, more seriously now. "Severus?"
His long, elegant hands grabbed either side of her face, and he brought her as close to him as possible. His eyes bored into hers, and then he kissed her, long and hard, and with more passion and need than she could remember him ever kissing her before. When he pulled away, leaving her breathless, he whispered, "I love you."
"It was the first time he told me he loved me," she said, leaning against Ron. "And when he said it, he had the same, unreadable look on his face as when he told me that he didn't. That's why I knew he meant it." Fresh tears began to spill down Hermione's cheeks. "I just don't understand, Ron. And I hate the fact that he's reduced me to this... blubbering idiot, but I feel
like nothing can ever be true and real again."
"Hermione, let me tell you something I learned after being cruelly shot down by you," Ron said with a grin. "As trite as I know this will sound, you will get over it. It may seem impossible now--"
"But that's what you don't understand," Hermione said, getting up, angry again. "What you had with me, that was a silly crush. What I have... had," she corrected herself ruefully, "with Severus was so intense. It still is to me. Ron, I feel like I AM Severus. And by not being together, I feel like I'm going crazy. I can't describe to you how I feel... But a part of me is
missing, Ron," she said. "But another part of me is so angry, and so hurt, that I can't bring myself to even feel what i'm feeling. I don't know what to do." Another tear fell. "Please help me."
Hermione whirled around. "I can't! I'm so angry! I mean, the fact that he had the audacity to even come here! Why is he even trying! He clearly doesn't want me anymore! I'm just... I... Damnit, Harry!" She burst into tears. The combined sound of her sobs and Emma's wailing was enough for Ron to come downstairs, his bright red hair disheveled.
"What in the bloody hell is going on here?"
Harry opened his mouth to respond, but Hermione broke in. "I'll tell you," she said, her voice shaking with emotion. "The bastard who is my husband decided to drop by. Apparently, he thinks a few pretty words can erase from my memory what he did to me last night, what he said to me, he is mistaken. He has torn my heart, my very soul, apart. And he came strolling up to this house today, excpecting what? Me to go running back into his arms, forgiving him? Why was he here Harry? Why!?" Her hysteria had reached a fever pitch.
"Honey, honey, honey," Ron said, unsure of what else to say. He gently pulled the still crying Emma out of Hermione's grasp and kissed her on the forehead before passing her to Harry. Harry walked out of the room, murmering comforting words in the child's ear.
Ron pulled Hermione into his arms. She had begun crying again. He simply held her. "Hermione," he said gently. "I can't believe I'm about to say this, but maybe you should listen to him. I mean are you positively sure he meant it."
"He looked me right in the eyes, Ron."
"But he may have been lying. Or angry..."
"No, Ron. I've seen that expression on his face before..."
Hermione walked down to the dungeons, to where she and Severus had met during her times at Hogwarts. She had graduated recently, and was helping him clean his rooms before he returned to his home for the summer. 'That's true love,' Hermione thought to herself, smiling. 'Nothing says romance like cleaning out moldy barrels of armadillo bile together.'
And she was doing just that, working silently alongside Snape an hour later. They didn't always talk when they were together. And even though she was bent over into a barrel of armidillo bile, arms covered in the crust she had been dilligently scraping off, she was still happy. "Severus," she said, her voice echoing around her, "I must admit this isn't how I thought we
would be celebrating our freedom from Hogwarts." Hearing no snide reply about her work ethic, or his responsibilities, she pulled herself up, and was surprised when she saw him standing right next to her. "What?" she asked. The expression on his face was unreadable. She pushed a some sweaty curls out of her eyes, and looked at him, more seriously now. "Severus?"
His long, elegant hands grabbed either side of her face, and he brought her as close to him as possible. His eyes bored into hers, and then he kissed her, long and hard, and with more passion and need than she could remember him ever kissing her before. When he pulled away, leaving her breathless, he whispered, "I love you."
"It was the first time he told me he loved me," she said, leaning against Ron. "And when he said it, he had the same, unreadable look on his face as when he told me that he didn't. That's why I knew he meant it." Fresh tears began to spill down Hermione's cheeks. "I just don't understand, Ron. And I hate the fact that he's reduced me to this... blubbering idiot, but I feel
like nothing can ever be true and real again."
"Hermione, let me tell you something I learned after being cruelly shot down by you," Ron said with a grin. "As trite as I know this will sound, you will get over it. It may seem impossible now--"
"But that's what you don't understand," Hermione said, getting up, angry again. "What you had with me, that was a silly crush. What I have... had," she corrected herself ruefully, "with Severus was so intense. It still is to me. Ron, I feel like I AM Severus. And by not being together, I feel like I'm going crazy. I can't describe to you how I feel... But a part of me is
missing, Ron," she said. "But another part of me is so angry, and so hurt, that I can't bring myself to even feel what i'm feeling. I don't know what to do." Another tear fell. "Please help me."