Disclaimer: Not mine! Thanks to JKR for providing us with the wonderful world of HP. Severus is not mine, much to my chagrin.

A/N:

I originally wrote this for the Alias fandom, and have posted it at SD-1, but it worked so well that I made a few modifications so that it would fit for Severus and Hermione.

Song: Never Coming Home by Sting

I just want to note that this is not a typical song fic. I admit, it started out to be, but it grew into much more. I've got to say, I put a lot of heart into it. The song is just a shell around the actual story. The lyrics are in bold. The present time is in regular text, and the flashbacks are in italics. There is a shift on the perspective throughout. I wanted to state that this is because the song changes, so that is why I did it. Some are Hermione 1st person, Severus 1st person, and then there is 3rd person. I hope it's not too confusing.

Also, they might seem a little OOC in the flashbacks, but love has a tendency to bring changes to the surface. Also, this fic isn't meant to delve into the reasons the two ended up together, but more to focus on the pain of leaving.

Special thanks to Judy who was crucial in the original writing of this little ficlet.

Well it's five in the morning and the light's already broken
And the rainy streets are empty for nobody else has woken
Yet you turn towards the window as he sleeps beneath the covers
And you wonder what he's dreaming in his slumbers

As I lay in bed, straining to hear the sounds of the early morning, I realize that I'm alone. Yes, he's here beside me, but I'm alone. I left both the Muggle and Wizarding worlds in order to be with him. I move to get out of bed, being quiet so as not to disturb him. The window draws me, even though it's unusually dark outside. There are dark clouds overhead, the remnants of the stormy night that had passed. It's odd how the weather reflects the storm raging inside me. The only indication that it is day is the faint light from where the sun should rise. How many mornings have I watched the beautiful sunrise from this very window?

She stands at the window, looking down at the grounds, as she clutches a steaming cup of tea. The sun is shining brightly and the call of the day fills her with energy. She hears a slight noise behind her, a smile making its way to her face. Him. "Morning, sleepyhead. I never thought you would be one to lie abed."

She did not turn as he walked behind her, slipping his arms around her waist. He rested his chin on her shoulder after giving her a soft kiss on her neck. "I never was. But, let's just say that now it's more interesting to lie in bed." He squeezed her gently before peering out at the beautiful day. "It would seem that we're the lazy ones this morning. What shall we do today?"

She set her cup down on the window sill, turning to him. "Let's just be."

He moves in his sleep, causing me to shift my attention to him. He does not look restful. There is a strain in his pale face, and he appears to be fighting some imaginary foe. Who it is this time? Voldemort? Death Eaters? There are so many things that we fight day to day, with others and with ourselves. Can we never be at peace? Are his nighttime battles ever with me? If they are, I know he will never tell me, just as I will never tell him.

I've been having the same dream for some time now, but it's been more insistent as of late. I suppose it's my subconscious telling me what I fear most. My recurring dream is a deceptive one. On one hand, It's wonderful, a dream to be cherished above all; on the other, it's a nightmare. We're making love, intense and passionate. I can feel every movement, every caress. But, when I look into his eyes, they are cold. Almost as cold as I feel when the jet of green light hits me.

I shiver and turn back to the window. It is time.

There's a clock upon the table and it's burning up the hour
And you feel your life is shrinking like the petals of a flower
As you creep towards the closet you're so careful not to wake him
And you choose the cotton dress you bought last summer

I glance at the clock that sits on the bedside table. The hands tell me that I've been standing in reflection for half an hour. I have to move. If I don't, I will cease to exist. I will lose everything in me that I cherish. I shake my head to help lift some of the fog, and make my way to the closet. I must get dressed.

My hands skim over my clothing, my mind screaming at me to hurry. I pause when I reach the simple white cotton dress that I bought last summer. Memories come crashing in, just like the endless crash of the waves in the ocean. It's funny that I should think of the pull of the tide when I was on the verge of drowning in emotion.

The water was cool on their bare feet, and the wind had a chill, but neither of them noticed nor would have cared if they had. Hand in hand, they walked, neither saying much, but not needing to. They never needed to. She looked up into his dark eyes, her own brimming with love. He looked back, still saying nothing, but squeezing her hand to let her know he felt the same. He stopped, and pulled her to him.

"Have I told you how beautiful you look today?" He stared down at her with such intensity that it caused her to blush.

"And I thought you hated this dress." She smoothed her simple white dress and tried to shift her eyes down, but found herself captivated by the warmth in his. How much he had changed! It was like he was a different man.

"Well, in spite of it being a bit Muggle for my taste, you are always beautiful." He pulled her closer, their bodies molding together like they were made to fit. "My beautiful bookworm." He bent his head to capture her lips, one arm winding around her waist, and the other cupping the side of her face.

She couldn't think with his lips on hers. Just being near him made her catch her breath. She responded to his kiss with everything in her, just wanting to be near him. Her hands moved up to play with the soft hair that hung around his shoulders. She sighed as he deepened the kiss.

The waves kept crashing in, but neither of them noticed...

The hands slipping into place on the clock catch my attention, and I quickly get dressed.

There's a time of indecision between the bedroom and the door
But the part of you that knows that you can't take it any more
There's the promise of the future in the creaking of the floor
And you're torn if you should leave him with a number

I don't think I can do this. I can't, I can't! I have to. But, how? I love him. But, I can't live like this. I'm losing everything that is good in me. I thought it would be different. I thought I could help him to change. He is different now, but it's not enough. He will never be the man I want him to be. It's not fair to ask him to be. I knew what he was when I came here. I knew and yet I didn't care. I didn't think it would matter. I thought it would change. But it is me who has changed. Last night was the last time I would make myself sick with worry. Apparently, love isn't enough.

I'm pulled from my thoughts once again as I step on a loose board in the bedroom floor. I stop, instantly wary that the slight noise would waken him. He stirred, but did not wake.

You know, we should really fix this. It would only take a simple Reparo, you know" She tested the loose board again, enjoying the squeak that brought character to their home. She looked at him with laughter in her eyes.

"Why get it fixed? I think it's an interesting quirk. Besides, this way, I'll always know when you're nearby." He laughed, taking her into his arms. With her, he was able to be the man that had been trapped inside all those years.

She giggled. "Also, when we dance, we'll have music of our own." She twirled around the floor with him, laughing when the floor squeaked each time their feet landed on the loose board.

"Love, there is always music when you're around." He twirled her again before pulling her close.

The loose board was forgotten in the pursuit of more pleasurable things.

A slight noise catches my attention, and I warily glance over at the bed. The nightmare seems to have grown worse, but I have to get away. If he tries to stop me, I won't go. But, I have to go in order to save myself.

I pause and wonder if I should tell him where I'm going. Should I tell him not to follow me; that this is what I want? I decide not to, because I don't know where I'm going, and if I told him that this is what I wanted, he wouldn't believe me.

And in your imagination you're a thousand miles away
Because too many of his promises got broken on the way
So you write it in a letter all the things you couldn't say
And you tell him that you're never coming home

I try to think of where I'll go. It will be far away. But, will it be far enough? Will he find me anyway? Maybe that is what I want.

He promised me time and time again that he was done. That there would be no more risks taken with his life, with the life that we so carefully built together. He promised that he wouldn't go back to Voldemort. He lied! He lied over and over again! Damn his infernal feeling of responsibility to Dumbledore. Angry now, I move to the bathroom, not even bothering to pack my things. I sit on the edge of the tub, staring at the mirror in the gilt frame that we picked out.

"You really like that?" He was skeptical as he eyed the mirror. "Don't you think the frame is a little garish? A magical mirror would suit us better, I think." He glanced at her to see if his opinion would make her mad.

She simply grinned impishly. "Well, yes, it's a bit over the top, but I remember we had one very similar to it when I was little." She laughed over the memory. "Dad hated that mirror. Mum said it gave the bathroom character."

He raised his eyebrows at this glimpse into her past. It was a past where Hermione was but a normal girl, with no idea of being a witch. Home was happy and warm. "Well, in that case, we simply must buy it." He took it from the wall and proceeded to pay for it.

Later, after it was in place, she stood looking at it, gingerly touching the frame. She looked in the mirror to see him standing behind her. Wrapping his arms around her waist, he leaned in, kissing her neck.

"Perfection." He smiled warmly at her in the glass. His meaning was evident.

She smiled as she leaned back into him.

Tears slide down my face as I tuck the letter I have so painstakingly written into the edge of the mirror. All of the things that had been on my mind had found their way onto a cold, white sheet of parchment. They were things I'd never be able to tell him face to face. It was my goodbye. I turn to walk away from my life. I tell myself that I am never coming back.

She starts running for the railway station praying that her calculation's right
And there's a train just waiting there to get her to the city before night
A place to sleep a place to stay will get her through another day
She'll take a job she'll find a friend she'll make a life that's better

She can smell the rain in the air and feel the humidity on her skin. It's stifling and close, but she runs as if her life depended on it. Maybe it does. All she knows is that if she stays here with him, she'll run the risk of being everything she never wanted to be. Or everything she never thought she wanted to be. Which was worse?

The train is ready to pull out. She rushes to the ticket counter, fumbling with the money. Once the ticket is bought, she darts to the train. Boarding, she scans for an empty seat and sits down. As the conductor collects the tickets, she doesn't even look up. She just hands him the little cardboard rectangle that is her passage away from her life with him. She tries to keep her tears in. Thankfully, he says nothing, and continues on. The train pulls away from the station, and she feels her heart breaking in two.

The passengers ignore her, just a girl with an umbrella
And there's nothing they can do for her, there's nothing they can tell her
There's nothing they could ever say would change the way she feels today
She'd live the life she'd always dreamed if he had only let her

No one seems to notice her, which suits her fine. She slides down into the seat, her hands gripping the umbrella she has brought with her.

"An umbrella, love? But, I thought you liked the rain?" He questioned her as she picked out the bright Monet umbrella.

She put it up and twirled it around, relishing in the bright, swirling colors. "I do like the rain. My hair, however, does not. Goodness knows I have enough trouble with it already!" She smiled up at him.

He took the umbrella from her grasp and said, "Your hair is untamable, but it matches your spirit. You should have it. At least you have good taste in art."

"To think, Severus Snape appreciating Muggle art! Water lilies. Besides, isn't it nice to have something so colorful to look at on a dreary day? It will make me smile just to see it." She laughed as he looked surprised at her words. On tiptoe, she kissed his crooked nose and then took his hand.

No one could help her, even if she were to start shouting. No one could tell her what was right and what was wrong. They didn't know, they didn't understand. Her mind was screaming and she couldn't hold the tears back anymore. They slid unbidden down her cheeks. She didn't even wipe them away, hoping they would purge some of the anger and sorrow that she was feeling.

Her life would change. She would survive. But, why? Why couldn't he have kept his promise? He was all she wanted. Just their life together. Happiness. She had dreamed of it, hoping for the day when everything would work out. But that day never came. And when he came home battered and bleeding yet again, she realized it never would. All the sweet moments in the world couldn't make the pain go away. They didn't even out all the times that she paced the floor with worry, wondering if he would come home alive or, worse yet, not come home at all. The stolen moments could never make up for the shifting of his eyes when he walked through the door. He never lied to her about going back, but he never told her the whole truth either.

Now in her imagination she's a million miles away
When too many of his promises got broken on the way
So she wrote it in a letter all the things she couldn't say
And she told him she was never coming home
She told him she was never coming home

I wake up in an empty bed a road drill hammers in my head
I call her name there's no reply it's not like her to let me lie
It's time for work it's time to go but something's different I don't know
I need a cup of coffee I'll feel better

I awake to silence. Odd. Usually she is here. If not in bed, then puttering around the house in her infernal fuzzy slippers. But, there is nothing. My head aches and I try to remember what happened the night before. I roll over and look at the clock. I groan out loud as I realize that I've overslept. Lateness was not something to be tolerated.

"Hermione?" I ignore the pain in my head and struggle to sit up. "Love?" I hear my own voice, questioning, my heart hammering. She never lets me oversleep. This wasn't right. Was it because of last night?

"I'm disappointed in you, Severus." The voice was serpentine and thick with loathing. "Crucio!"

Steeling his body against the agony, he spoke. "Yes, my Lord." He slipped easily into the servant persona, even though he rarely wore it anymore. He was a disappointed with himself. No matter how hard he tried, the old Severus always took over at times like this. Slimy bastard.

"Then prove your loyalty. Kill the boy!" The shell of a man nodded almost imperceptibly.

He flinched inwardly as he observed the small boy in front of him. He knew that if he didn't do as the Dark Lord wanted, he would pay the ultimate price. Not now, I can't die now. I have her. I have to make it home. I promised.

Doing the thing that was second nature to him, he moved quickly with his wand. "Avada Kedavra!" The boy's eyes, which had been pleading, widened as the curse hit him.

With the appalling thud of the boy falling, Severus felt sick. He had promised and had broken his promise yet again. It was like a drug, this life. As much as he loved her, he didn't know how to let it go. Dumbledore still needed him, and maybe he needed it for himself as well.

When he got home, he saw her pacing the floor. She was in a panic because he was late and she saw that he was hurt. Even thought she didn't say it in words, he knew. She carefully took his hand and led him to the bathroom, where she carefully tended his wounds.

Where is she? Maybe she went to run an errand and she'll be back. I move to the kitchen, fumbling to make a pot of coffee. I usually take tea, but I need something to clear my head. I pull out a stool at the counter and sit down. I run my hands through my lank hair, and gingerly checked myself. I'm a little sore, but apart from that and my aching head, I'm intact. She always takes care of me, even when chastising me with those tawny eyes of hers.

She smiled sadly at him as she softly inspected the damage. Her eyes were brimming with tears as she leaned forward to place kisses on his wounds before healing them.

He looked into her eyes and saw a reflection of all the turmoil and pain that he was feeling. "Hermione…" He was silenced by a finger pressed to his lips. She quickly replaced it with her warm mouth. Although her kiss was gentle at first, it quickly became desperate. It always did.

"Shhh." She broke the kiss and took his hand, leading him to their bedroom. She paused a moment, and looked up into his eyes.

He wanted to lose himself in her. To let her cleanse his polluted soul. His aches did not hinder him as he accepted her silent offer.

When the coffee is done, I pour a cup and take a sip so fast that I burn my tongue. Cursing, I put it down and make my way to the bathroom.

I stumble to the bathroom door, her make up bag is on the floor
It really is a mess this place it takes some time to shave my face
I'm not really thinking straight she never lets me sleep this late
I'm almost done and then I see the letter

While she isn't the neatest person in the world, it's really odd to see the room in this state. Her normally neat makeup bag is lying toppled over on the floor, everything spilling out. It always amazed me that she bothers with the stuff because she is so naturally beautiful.

"It takes time to look like this," she explained when he questioned all of her beauty supplies. She pursed her lips and added lipstick before powdering her face.

"But you're so pretty the way you are. You don't need all of that. Besides, there are easier ways to do it." He was always puzzled with her insistence that a little makeup was a good thing.

"Silly man. Women are different." She flashed her smile at him.

He instantly grinned in response. "Silly man or not, you're gorgeous. What did I ever do to deserve you?"

She paused, looking over at him. "You made my dreams come true."

I am startled to see that I have started shaving without realizing it while thinking back. I wince in pain as the razor nicks my skin, blood dripping into the basin. As I look into the mirror to survey the damage, I see it. My heart leaps to my throat as I stare at the stark, white envelope. It said one thing.

Severus.

I knew then that nothing would ever be the same.

In his imagination she's a universe away
Too many of his promises got broken on the way
So she wrote it in a letter all things she couldn't say
And she told him she was never coming home

Without even reading it, he knew. But, he had to read it. Maybe if he forced the pain on himself, it would be more real. He imagined that she was already in another city, another country. And it was his fault.

He sank down into the corner by the tub and stared at the letter in his hands. Tears were springing to his eyes. He blinked them back and swallowed the hot lump that was threatening to choke him. He would not cry. Not because of something that was his doing. Drops of blood mixed with the tears that wound their way down his cheeks in spite of himself. As they dropped onto the envelope, they stained the pure white.

How ironic. It was just like him. He had stained her. She had been untainted, but she knowingly stayed with him, even though he knew she knew that he hadn't stopped spying. She was changing because of him. How could he have destroyed something so pure?

He tore open the envelope, his hands shaking. Her slanted handwriting filled the page. He thought back to the many times he had seen this writing before. How he had smiled when finding a note from her.

Dearest Severus,

I just wanted to let you know that I feel lucky to have you in my life. I know that things haven't been good for either of us in the past, but just knowing that we are facing the future together is enough to make it worth it.

All my love,

Your Hermione

He stared at the writing in front of him, knowing that this wasn't one of those times. There would be no smiling now. Noting that the paper was crinkled from dried tears, he took a deep breath and started to read.

My Severus,

There are so many things that I wish I could have said to you. There are so many times that I almost left. I stayed for one thing only. Love.

Being the foolish person that I am, I thought love would be enough to get us through anything. I should have learned long ago that it is never enough. I've lost too many people that I loved. And that has proven true once again, because I will be losing you.

I'm writing this now because I don't have the courage to say these things to your face. I can see you smirking at that, because so many times I have claimed to be fearless. But, if I look at you, into your eyes, my resolve will falter. I can't let that happen.

I don't want you to put all of the blame on yourself. The fault lies in both of us. It lies with me, for expecting you to change. In you, for promising me that you would, even though you knew it was impossible. I left my life behind, but you could not.

As much as I love you, Severus, I also despise you. I can never reconcile the two sides of you, and it's changing me. I find myself becoming someone else in order to deal with the horror that lies in wake of you. I find myself praying that you do what is necessary to make you come home to me. Even if it means someone has to die for it. And you know as well as I, that Voldemort rarely leaves witnesses.

I can't live with this person that I'm becoming, so I have to go. I know that as unhappy as it will make both of us, you will understand. You always understand. That is why this is so hard. I finally found you, but I have to let you go.

I do not regret our time together, but I can't continue or I will regret it. And I never want that to happen. Our love means more to me than you will ever know. But it's not enough. It's never enough.

I learned about life from life itself
love I learned in a single kiss
and could teach no one anything
except that I have lived
Pablo Neruda

Always,

Hermione

Severus' hold on the letter loosened, and it fluttered to the floor. He stared at it for a moment, unable to move, his emotions paralyzing him. He slowly brought his head to his hands, sobbing. She was gone and he was alone. There was nothing he could do to change that. She was never coming home.

Fin