The Truth
The next morning she still felt like she'd been run over by a lorry, or whatever the Wizarding equivalent would be. A herd of Abraxans, perhaps. Luna stayed for breakfast until she had to leave for work. Hermione had some tea and a piece of toast, and even had the energy to make a Floo call with both Lucy and Healer Trout, asking them for forgiveness for her absences and that she'd had a medical emergency and would stay at home for a few days. She retreated back to bed, dozing away most of the day. Luna had left her some sandwiches but she didn't feel like bothering to eat.
The doorbell rang later in the afternoon. To her surprise, Severus was back. She backed up, flustered, and he let himself in. He took off his shoes, outer robes and frock coat by the door, leaving him looking painfully familiar in a white shirt and black slacks, his usual attire when visiting her.
"Um, hi?"
He raised an eyebrow at her. "How are you today?"
"Better, I think. Still bleeding a bit." She settled on the couch, out of his way, tucking her feet under her.
"I brought some more potions for you." He started digging through the pockets of the frock coat, handed her a Blood-Replenishing potion and deposited the rest in the bathroom. "Do you need another dose of the painkiller now?"
"No, I'm okay."
He brought one out anyway. "That's Hermione-speak for yes it hurts but I won't acknowledge it. Here, take this."
She complied. He got that right, as usual. A feeling of warm relaxation spread through her body once she'd downed the potion. "Why did you come here yesterday?"
He joined her on the couch but kept a sizable distance between them. His long legs were stretched out before him, crossed at the ankles, and he was tracing his lower lip with the pad of his thumb. She ached for his touch but kept her hands folded in her lap to stop herself from reaching for him.
"Luna contacted me yesterday morning. She'd apparently been contacted by Ginevra Potter who had been alerted by Miss Wellington that you'd once again failed to show up to work all week and no one had heard from you in a long while, and no one could get through your wards. She also said she had a feeling you needed me urgently. Luna then told me I needed to talk to you to get the whole picture before jumping to conclusions. She also claimed the Wrackspurts made both of us confused and that our auras were misaligned."
Hermione snorted, that sounded so quintessentially Luna. Still, it had worked. He had come. He was here, and apparently willing to listen.
"I'm so sorry, Severus. For everything, really."
He nodded but didn't respond, didn't look at her. She took a deep breath.
"When I tried to tell you about Ron I never got the chance to say that I turned him down. It was awful, he invited me to the Burrow for lunch and then ambushed me with a proposal while everyone else was hiding behind the door. I ran, there was no way I could stay."
That eyebrow of his hitched up again as his gaze finally sought her eyes. "Yet you had led him on to the point where he thought you'd marry him."
Hermione blushed. She didn't quite understand it herself, even. What had she been thinking? "At that point I hadn't … been together … with him for about three months and barely saw him outside of Grimmauld, when I went to visit Harry. We haven't really spent time together since last summer when we visited Bill and Fleur. I just didn't have the courage to break up with him properly but when he proposed of course I had to turn him down. And then when I tried to explain it to you, you just ran and shut me out. I completely freaked out when I discovered I was pregnant, I know what the Wizarding world thinks of single mothers, it's worse than the Victorians."
Severus had closed his eyes, frowning. "I'm sorry, Hermione. I too haven't been forthright with whatever's been going on between us."
He fell silent. She didn't know what to say but before long her stomach growled audibly, making her blush. His eyes snapped open and he smirked at her.
"I fully concur with your stomach. Do you have anything edible here or shall I go fetch something? Nevermind, I know the answer. Is Indian alright with you?"
She tried to draw herself up taller and glared at him, which of course had no effect whatsoever, especially as she was still in a simple t-shirt and pyjama trousers. "Garlic Naan, then, and some tikka masala or palak paneer, something mild."
"I hear and obey," he intoned as he rose from the couch.
He left the flat, apparently preferring to order in person rather than calling. Hermione felt totally confused by his actions, his presence, but nonetheless she was grateful to have him there, that he had arrived when he did yesterday. Some time later he was back and together they set the kitchen table, eating in silence. Somehow she managed to actually eat almost half her portion and a few pieces of his spicy lamb dish, surprised at herself for having an appetite since nothing had tasted good in such a long time. They cleaned up the kitchen together, working efficiently in tandem as if nothing had happened to break their companionship. It felt both right and utterly sad, to think that she'd had all this and lost it. She put on the kettle for some tea and soon they were settled on the couch again with a hot cup each. She knew his preferences, after all. Milk, one sugar.
There was something she just had to ask. "Severus? Why did you leave that day?"
He froze again before he seemed to will himself to relax, exhaling sharply but not looking at her.
"I realised how foolish I had been, Hermione. I thought I didn't need anyone in my life, that an occasional bedpartner was good enough. I thought I was fine with waiting for you to call upon me once or twice a month, meeting in secret, merely keeping it physical. I thought I was alright with you and Weasley Jr being together, officially speaking. When you mentioned that he had proposed it all came crashing down and I couldn't bear the thought of you in his arms. I assumed I had lost you already, so I left."
She sighed. "What a mess, Severus. Part of the reason why I couldn't bring myself to cut Ron off was because I was certain you didn't want anything more than an occasional shag and I couldn't stand the thought of being alone. I thought I'd lose everyone if I let him down and they were all assuming I'd marry him. I know I messed up, I'm sorry, it was completely unfair to all of us."
He nodded. "At least you're honest with yourself now."
Something else needed to be asked, although she feared the answer. "What about yourself, then? Who is that blonde witch?"
He grimaced but eyed her steadily. "Claudette Millefeuille is a distant cousin of Lucius', in the French branch of the Malfoy tree. Narcissa introduced us in yet another attempt at playing matchmaker and I found little reason to reject her offer after my last visit here."
She swallowed heavily. "I'm… I hope you're happy, then."
"I don't love her, Hermione."
Somehow that statement caused hope to blossom in her chest. Did he…? She bit her lip in an attempt to stop herself from blurting out too much at once which would undoubtedly scare him off, again.
He shifted his gaze to the fireplace. "I haven't seen her since the day you showed up on my doorstep."
"I'm sorry, Severus, I didn't mean to get in the way of your…"
He shook his head. "No matter. It was a business agreement, mainly. I realised I couldn't do that to her, or to myself."
They lapsed into silence for a while, each of them lost in thought. At least some of the heaviness had dissipated.
Another thought struck her. She had to take a deep breath to voice it, however. "Would you… would you have accepted our daughter?"
He looked up sharply, frowning. "Yes, if you had managed to make me understand that your child was… was mine too, I would have done all that was in my power to keep her safe and secure. I too must beg for forgiveness, Hermione, I should have listened to what you had to say. I'm a stubborn bastard who assumes too much, I'm sorry."
She heaved a sigh of relief. Tears were threatening to fall but she blinked them away. "Thank you, Severus."
"I never thought I'd have a child." He was looking straight ahead but his eyes were unfocused. "I always assumed that I'd never have the opportunity, and that if I did I'd be a lousy father anyway."
"I happen to believe you'd be an excellent father, if you wanted to, Severus Snape."
He snorted but refrained from commenting.
A yawn overtook her. To her surprise it was rather late already. Apparently he had noticed too since he rose from the couch.
"Will you stay tonight? Just to sleep?"
He shook his head. "No, I need to think and I think you do, too. I don't wish for us to immediately fall back into the same pattern again."
She rose too, stepping slightly closer to him. "But…"
"Witch, you know this. We'll meet again later if you are amenable."
"May I write you?" she whispered, trying to blink away the tears that threatened to fall.
His eyes softened slightly. "You may, Hermione." He wiped away the tears that had escaped with his thumb. "I'll call upon Luna again and ask her to check up on you. She's an odd one but she's strong when it matters. Can you imagine the essays I've had to correct over the years?"
That thought made her giggle. "How come you're friends with her? You call her Luna and she knew where you live?"
He shrugged. "When she was with Longbottom and regularly visited Hogwarts she often sat next to me during meals in the Great Hall. I didn't have much choice but to talk to her or she would carry on whole conversations doing both sides herself. She has a way to get straight to the matter and she's more perceptive than she appears. She also brought me some ingredients from her travels, and one year that happened to be during summertime so she got my address."
"I'm glad she did," Hermione said.
He nodded and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "As am I. Until later, Hermione. Be sure to remember to eat and take care of yourself. Finish the thesis. Write me."
She nodded and watched him leave, but some of the weight had lifted from her chest.
~o~o~o~o~o~
Luna dragged her out the next morning for a check at St Mungo's maternity ward. The Mediwitch was kind and compassionate, but couldn't do much other than to confirm what she already knew. At least it seemed there were no complications.
The Mediwitch sighed and patted Hermione's hand as she finished the examination. "It happens way too often in our world, dear. I don't know why Muggles have it easier but our birth rates are not as high as they should be, given that many people marry young. There was nothing you could have done to prevent this from happening, so please don't go around thinking it was your fault. I hope you will understand that, one day."
"Thanks," she whispered as another wave of tears surged. It still felt surreal, somehow.
Luna took her out to lunch afterwards before she had to be off to work for a bit. Hermione promised to start looking after herself better, and started by buying fresh groceries and cleaning up her pets' area. She still had some of the Indian food left from the day before which she could eat for dinner. Afterwards she curled up on the couch and flipped on the TV. Crookshanks came padding up to her and made himself comfortable in her lap. She felt alright, but Crooks protested when tears started dripping into his ears, and she noticed her cheeks were wet.
~o~o~o~o~o~
Luna brought Lucy along for a chat the next Friday afternoon. Hermione had protested, saying she didn't want company, but Luna had calmly ignored all the protests and simply pulled Lucy along through the Floo, armed with Chinese takeaway. Lucy talked about anything and everything apart from work and relationships, apparently determined to keep the silence from growing too heavy.
Luna's words from earlier kept echoing through her mind. "It is time, Hermione. You need to talk to your friends and others who care about you. They will understand more than you think." Since not listening to Luna was what had gotten her into this mess, perhaps it was time to be sensible and do what the blonde witch told her to.
As a first step, coming clean to Lucy was rather simple. Once they'd cleared away the dishes, Hermione took a deep breath. "I had a miscarriage. It wasn't Ron's."
"Oh no, I'm so sorry," Lucy said. "How do you feel now?"
Hermione had to think a little. "Pretty raw, to be honest. I'm not sure. And… you're not going to say anything about it not being Ron's?"
Lucy shrugged. "Not my circus, not my monkeys. Besides I think you weren't very well suited to each other, the little I saw of you together. Hug?"
"Thanks, Lucy." Soon she was wrapped in a tight hug that said more than words could.
They settled in front of the TV with some snacks, although Luna as usual claimed to be watching invisible creatures in the background rather than the silly shows they ended up watching.
Once the two witches had left Hermione thought about what Luna had said. Maybe it was time. Yes. Still, she needed to get herself a bit more in order before talking to Harry, Ginny and others she was supposedly close to. After talking it through with Crooks and Iris, who offered their own commentary to her questions, the next step became clearer. She snatched a piece of parchment from her research pile and soon sent Iris off to Shell Cottage asking if she could visit as she needed to tell them something.
~o~o~o~o~o~
A few days later Hermione was invited to Shell Cottage, timed so that Victoire would be napping during their talk. The July afternoon was beautiful, the sun shining strongly and only a few wispy clouds chasing each other across the sky. Bill and Fleur greeted her as warmly as usual and guided her out to Fleur's lilac arbour behind the cottage, somewhat sheltered from the sea. Fleur brought out some lemonade and her homemade and most excellent éclairs, to Hermione's chagrin. She couldn't stomach anything before they had talked, and she expected to be thrown out quickly afterwards anyway.
"What is it? I can see that something 'as 'appened?" Fleur asked, frowning.
Bill settled next to his wife. There was nothing to do, other than just… getting it done.
She took a deep breath. "I just had a miscarriage… and it wasn't Ron's. I'm sorry." She couldn't look at them, certain they would be furious with her.
To her utter confusion and surprise Fleur immediately moved to sit next to her instead, and put her arm across Hermione's shoulders. "I'm sorry, Hermione. I should 'ave guessed. You don't 'ave to apologise to us for that, you know."
Bill nodded. "I'm sorry too, Hermione. You and Ron were never a good match, anyway. What about the father, then?"
"He knows… we're not exactly together but he knows about this, now." Silent tears were wetting her cheeks again, and Bill dug out a slightly tattered handkerchief for her.
Fleur was still rubbing her shoulders. "I 'ad two miscarriages before Victoire and so far one after. It's rough, I know it is. Take your time."
"Thanks," Hermione whispered. She relaxed slightly, grateful for their reactions. "I thought I was safe, I'd just made it to fourteen weeks. A girl, it would have been a girl."
Fleur winced in sympathy and nodded. "That's late, it must have been difficult. You were planning to keep 'er, then?"
"Yes… Yes, I was. I know the Wizarding world looks down on unwed mothers but I couldn't not have, you know, even if it would have been difficult."
Fleur passed her the éclairs again, and they talked a bit about other things for a while. Victoire, their work at Gringotts, the garden.
"Why don't you stay here for a few days? You're more than welcome to, if you want," Bill said suddenly. "We're off work for the rest of the month, more or less, but we're not going anywhere."
"You sure… could I do that?" Suddenly that sounded like an awesome idea, to stay for a while with the two unassuming Weasleys and their little chatterbox of a daughter.
"Of course!" Fleur said with a smile. "There's plenty of room 'ere."
When the charmed baby monitor alarm beeped to let the parents know that Victoire had woken up, Hermione rose too and went back to her flat to pack some things for a few days. She let Iris out with instructions on where to find her, and brought Crookshanks along despite his protests over magical travel.
The sun and the sea helped. She took long walks alone, or with Fleur, with Bill or with all of them, barefoot along the beach or inland. They showed her a few secret spots along the coast, kept her fed and occupied, and let her talk. The days blended into each other and soon she'd been there a full week.
They also talked about research and homesickness and missing parents and how to cope with loss, or what it had been like for them. Bill was grateful for the scar salve which had worked wonders on most of the scars on his face, leaving silvery streaks in place of the vicious disfigurement although a little bit of lopsidedness remained.
When she returned to her flat again she had a bit of a tan, sand in her hair, freckles on her nose and a slightly lighter heart.