Author's note: I originally wrote this story when I was 16 and have decided to redraft it. It's a one-shot between Severus and Hermione that dispels canon, and questions: 'What would have ultimately happened if they married? Would it have ended well?'
As you can discern from the title, happy-endings are not my forte. I hope you enjoy it.
Disclaimer: I own nothing within the Rowling universe and never wish to, because if it weren't for her stories many of us wouldn't have gone on adventures that we'll never forget.
Empty Images, Empty Lives
by watercolour dreams
"So, you're leaving then?"
She hadn't heard him; rather, she was ignoring him. Her suitcases had been packed a long time ago, shipped off to the Weasley's where she was staying until she could find a place of her own.
He had followed her into the lounge room, where she stood in front of the fireplace, her fingers poised over the pot of floo powder that sat on the mantel. Her gaze was watching him in the mirror that hung above the fireplace: their mirror — a tenth anniversary present off him several years ago to emphasise the love that they had once held for each other.
"Are you going to say anything?" she asked. Her doe eyes probed his in the reflection.
"There is nothing to be said," he replied coolly and crossed his arms across his chest.
Her brow knitted and she blinked her eyes in frustration. She wouldn't cry, she told herself, she just couldn't.
An image presently itself momentarily in the mirror, and her anger dissipated as she reach out and tenderly touched the cool surface, hoping to capture one more glimpse of an image before she left.
"This mirror is supposed to show us the person who we are currently, and irrevocably, in love with. If that person reciprocates the feelings, the mirror presents an image of the lovers together, confirming that their love is true," she recited softly.
He sneered.
"Still an insufferable know-it-all."
She laughed; a laugh that was so completely hollow and unlike her that no happiness was meant to be received from it. Then again, when was the last time she had been happy?
"I can't see anything in this mirror anymore Severus," she slipped off her engagement ring. "I don't love you anymore," she took off her wedding ring and placed both rings next to a faded wedding photo on the fireplace mantel, "and I know you don't either."
"You can go, see if I care," retorted Severus, trying to ignore the fact that she had removed their rings without shedding a tear. Weren't women supposed be distraught and snivelling by this time?
"Oh stop being a petulant child Severus, you never reinforced your proclamation of love and haven't even attempted to stop me from leaving," she snapped. "If you were even a decent husband, you would've done either of those. You only have yourself to blame, and I'm sorry for that," she finished despondently, and then she threw a fistful of floo powder into the hearth. The flames turned a violent green.
"The divorce papers are on the coffee table."
Those were the last words he heard her speak before she left.
The room suddenly seemed empty and a maelstrom of regret washed over him, making him feel dizzy and disorientated. Severus uncrossed his arms and clasped his hands tightly on the back of the headrest of a lounge room chair.
His knuckles turned white and his eyes stung. This wasn't the first rejection he had had, but it certainly cut the deepest.
Once Severus had assured himself, he approached the coffee table apprehensively. Sure enough, ever reliable Hermione had deposited the papers on the table. He picked them up. The paper trembled in his hands as he read the conditions.
It was then that he saw it.
The mirror that hung above the fireplace formed an image of Hermione, his wife. His soon-to-be ex-wife, and there was nothing he could do about because she truly didn't love him anymore.