Experienced my first blizzard this weekend! (Read as: OH MY GOD THERE'S SO MUCH SNOW I'M SO EXCITED)
Well, please ignore me gallivanting through snowbanks as tall as me and enjoy Chapter 3 of You Don't Bring Me Flowers!
Chapter 3
Severus Snape stood alone in the kitchen and reasoned that he had finally done it. He had finally pushed his wife into the arms of the very man he had been jealous of. He glared angrily at the yellow flowers still lying harmlessly on the counter. Four days he had been gone, and she had probably been knocking on his door every night for comfort. He had been camping out in Hogsmeade during one of the worst blizzards Hogwarts – and maybe Britain itself – had ever seen, waiting to bring flowers back to his wife to win her over, and she could have been running to the Weasley boy the entire time.
With a strangled growl, he pulled out his wand in a fluid movement and set the flowers on fire, watching them wither and blacken on the kitchen counter. When they had burned to ash, he vanished the remains with another wave of his wand. He leaned against the counter wearily, staring at the opened fruit basket that Mrs. Weasley had sent them. He quickly levitated it and threw it against the stone wall, causing the basket to break open and apples and boxes of dried fruit and crackers to roll around on the kitchen floor.
He couldn't stop thinking about the fact that he had left his wife to do something nice for her, and he had inadvertently pushed her away. So far away, that she had left their home. He slammed his hand down on the kitchen counter and turned toward the living room, throwing a silent Reducto at the sofa facing the fire that was still burning brightly in the grate. The couch splintered as it exploded, raining down stuffing and wood chips on the floor. The armchair and small table went next, the former exploding like the sofa and the latter sliding across the floor to smash against the wall.
Finally, Severus himself collapsed within the rubble of his ruined living room, his wand rolling out of his hand and settling somewhere between a clump of stuffing and shredded leather and a shard of glass. He stared at the fire, willing Hermione to come back to him. He willed her to step gracefully through the Floo and embrace him, tell him that she was wrong to leave. He didn't care what it took to get her back. After spending four days without her, all he wanted was her sitting beside him on the couch or lying next to him in bed.
When he realized she wasn't coming back any time soon, he slowly stood from the ground and set the living room back to order with a swift wave of his wand. Stuffing and wood melded together to form the plush sofa and armchair again, and the remaining wood chunks reformed into the coffee table.
Once everything was in order, Severus made his way to the glass cabinet that housed the alcohol in their quarters. He was shocked to find it nearly empty, and pulled out the last handle of firewhiskey from where it sat in the back of the cabinet. As he carried it back to the sofa, he wondered to himself how his wife could have nearly finished off the alcohol in the four days that he had been gone.
Maybe she had missed him a bit more than he thought. Or maybe she had simply shared the alcohol with Weasley.
He scowled angrily and poured himself a drink to get the image of the redhead and his wife out of his head.
oOoOo
Hermione stumbled through the Floo and into the Burrow, choking on soot and the tears that she had been unable to control during her quick trip over. She collapsed onto the rug in front of the fire, burying her face into her hands and letting loose the sobs that she had been holding back.
Ron was by her side in an instant, grabbing her arm and helping her over to the sofa.
"Damn it, Hermione," the redhead growled. "What did the git do now?"
Hermione merely shook her head hopelessly as Mrs. Weasley poked her head in from the kitchen in response to the commotion.
"Hermione?" she asked, tucking the handle of her wooden spoon into her apron and approaching the sofa. Shooing Ron away to the other sofa, she sat beside Hermione and drew her into a comforting, motherly embrace. "What happened, dear?"
"Severus," was the only word she could squeak out of her tight throat. She threw her hands up and let out a despairing cry, causing Mrs. Weasley to pull her tighter against her bosom.
Ron handed her a glass of water from the kitchen and resettled on the sofa. "What did he do? Did he come back? What did he say?"
She took a grateful gulp of the water before replying. "He came back." She rubbed her red eyes wearily. "Apparently he was staying in The Three Broomsticks with Rosmerta the entire time. And he had the audacity to come back with a bloody bouquet of flowers like that made up for the whole thing!" A small sob escaped her, and she covered it with another sip of water.
"Of course he did!" Ron exploded, standing from the sofa angrily. "He's shacking up with Rosmerta, and tries to cover it with some shoddy flowers?"
"Ron!" Mrs. Weasley scolded, rubbing Hermione's back soothingly at the same time. "Hermione, don't you listen to him. I'm sure Severus had a perfectly good reason for being in Hogsmeade. I've known that man since before you were born, and though we all questioned his loyalty at some point or another, he always did the right thing in the end.
"Ron, come here and comfort your friend. I'm going to get you two steaming mugs of hot cocoa. Does that sound alright, sweetie?" Hermione nodded at the woman's request and leaned into Ron's awkward side hug.
Within minutes, mugs of cocoa – heavy on the marshmallows and whipped cream – were floating toward them, a tray of biscuits following not far behind. Hermione took a few sips and nibbled on a biscuit, feeling the warmth settle into her stomach and chase away a bit of the numbness that seemed to have pervaded her soul.
"So, Hermione, tell us a bit about how your classes are going this year," Mrs. Weasley invited, and Hermione welcomed the distraction.
"They're going great, Mrs. Weasley! I've been working on new theories with my N.E.W.T. class in addition to teaching them the standard material, and they all seem to be loving it." The young professor smiled around her mug, the light returning to her honey eyes little by little. She tucked a stray curl behind her ear. "I think I'm enjoying the class more than they are, though."
"Nobody could like class more than you, 'Mione," Ron groaned playfully from beside her. "I doubt you'll ever leave the classroom."
She pretended to hit him, but gave them both a solemn look. "That's the thing. I obviously will be teaching at the castle still, but I need – I need a place to stay at the moment. I'm not asking – I would never –"
Mrs. Weasley stood in an instant, a broad smile lighting up her face. "Oh, Hermione, you're always welcome here! I'll have Ginny's old room ready for you in just a moment!"
Hermione let out a small sigh of relief and sunk back into the sofa. "Thank you so much. I don't know what I could ever do to repay you."
"Don't even think about it, dear!" Mrs. Weasley called over her shoulder as she quickly ascended the stairs.
After a few moments of silence, Ron whistled lowly beside her. "Bloody hell. Rosmerta."
This time, Hermione really did place a well-aimed jab into his side.
oOoOo
Monday had Hermione returning to work as usual. She rose extra early to attempt to help Mrs. Weasley with breakfast, although the woman pushed her forcefully out of the room and told her to just shower and ready herself – breakfast would be just fine. By the time Hermione had showered and donned her teaching robes, a full English breakfast was on the table and waiting to be devoured.
Hermione nibbled her way through an egg and a couple slices of bacon before darting up from the table and running toward the Floo. She let Mrs. Weasley plant a chaste kiss on her cheek before stepping through the Floo and into the Headmistress's office, where Minerva was waiting with a grim look. Hermione had visited the day before and informed her of the current situation.
"Good morning, Hermione," Minerva greeted with a hug. "Welcome back."
"Thank you, Minerva," the younger witch replied with a sad smile. "I don't know how I'd be able to do this without you."
Minerva put a comforting hand on her shoulder before allowing her to be on her way. Hermione hurried down the stairwell and into the halls of Hogwarts. She picked the quickest route to her familiar Transfiguration classroom and settled behind her desk to prepare for the morning's classes.
oOoOo
Severus knew he was being particularly harsh to his Potions students Monday morning, but he couldn't quite find it within him to care much. He couldn't stop thinking about Hermione leaving and not coming back. He couldn't get the image of Ronald Weasley hugging his crying wife out of his head.
He swiftly walked up behind a Hufflepuff first year and snapped – a bit louder and harsher than he had intended, "Did the instructions call for four drops of Lethe River water, Bernstein?" The girl dropped the entire dropper of Lethe River water into her cauldron and burst into noisy tears. Severus merely sighed in frustration and vanished the mess, grateful that the Forgetfulness Potion wasn't especially prone to explosions. "Twenty points from Hufflepuff."
When the first years shuffled out and the fourth year Gryffindors and Slytherins filed in, Severus cast an especially nasty look toward the red and gold-clad students. A blond Gryffindor whose name Severus couldn't remember was carrying his Transfiguration textbook under one robed arm.
"Does this look like Transfiguration to you?" The boy's brown eyes widened almost comically as he shook his head frantically. "Then put it away. Fifteen points from Gryffindor."
Severus noted the smug grins of several of his Slytherins, but he was too distracted by the sight of the Transfiguration book to give them much mind. Hermione was in the castle, even though she wasn't staying in their quarters. For a terrifying moment, he considered that she could have moved into new quarters elsewhere in the castle, but he quickly crushed the fear. She would have had to stop by to gather her clothes and belongings if she was truly moving out.
If he could only convince her to come home.
oOoOo
When she left her last class of the morning to head to the Great Hall for lunch, she was grateful to find that the corridor outside her classroom clear. The relief was short-lived, however, as she turned the corner to see him waiting for her in the entrance hall. He stepped forward as soon as he saw her approaching.
"Hermione." His voice was quiet and imploring, and she refused to let the desperation that seemed to have infused itself into the very syllables of her name touch her heart. She strode purposefully past him without even giving him a glance, leaving the Potions Master standing with one hand half-outstretched and his mouth still forming his next sentence.
She took her seat beside Minerva, and intentionally paid Severus no attention as he took his seat on the other side of her.
"How were your classes this morning?" he offered tentatively, grabbing a turkey sandwich – her favorite – and offering it to her.
"Minerva, what do you think of the concept of attempting animagus transformations in my seventh year N.E.W.T. class?" Hermione asked pointedly, turning her back on her husband, who dropped the turkey sandwich onto his own plate instead.
"Certainly a difficult concept, Hermione, but if anyone could manage it, I'm sure it would be you," the Headmistress replied with a smile, casting a glance over Hermione's shoulder at Severus.
When Hermione turned back toward her plate, she found a turkey sandwich on her plate and a note that clearly read, Please. She deftly moved the sandwich to the side of her plate and reached for a ham sandwich instead.
"You weren't at breakfast this morning," Severus tried again, his sandwich untouched on his plate.
Hermione looked out at students and noticed that several of them were staring at the subtle tension that was emanating from the Head Table, so she turned her face toward Severus, meeting his dark eyes.
"No, I breakfasted with the Weasleys. Mrs. Weasley makes a wonderful breakfast, so I didn't think it was worth coming to the castle early and missing her cooking." Hermione's lips spread into a fake smile – certainly for the students and not for her husband – but her voice was devoid of any emotion. "Speaking of food, I don't think I have much of an appetite at the moment."
She rose from her chair and bid Minerva adieu before heading for the large double doors of the Great Hall and eventually her office.
oOoOo
Two days had passed and Severus had yet to get anything more than polite conversation out of Hermione at meals, which he knew was more a show for the students than any attempt at reconciliation with him. He had intentionally changed the route that he took down to the dungeons in hope of passing her and getting a nod, a smile, anything. But every time he passed her in the corridors, she lifted her head slightly and strode past him without even looking at him.
He was done with her avoiding his gaze and avoiding conversation. He was taking matters into his own hands, or at least that's what he told himself as he stood silently behind a tapestry and waited for his wife to pass. He had timed her arrival at the Great Hall for lunch every day to the minute, so he knew she was due to round the corner any moment.
Sure enough, he heard her footsteps approaching, her shoes clicking sharply against the stone floor. He waited until she was right outside the tapestry before darting his hand out and pulling her inside.
oOoOo
Hermione's steps nearly faltered as she turned the corner and saw that her husband wasn't waiting for her outside the Great Hall, as he had been for the last two days. Hoping she hadn't lost him altogether, she crossed her arms and pressed on toward the doors.
However, her stride was interrupted as she was nearly yanked sideways off of her feet. She pulled her wand quickly as she was pulled behind one of the tapestries and found its tip a mere inch from her husband's prominent nose. She frowned at him as she stowed her wand back in its holster.
"What do you think you're doing?" she hissed, crossing her arms. "I could have hexed you."
"It would have been better than this silence," Severus answered honestly, crossing his own arms and mimicking her stance unconsciously.
"I've been talking to you," Hermione protested, even as her husband was shaking his head sadly.
"In the Great Hall when the students are watching, perhaps, but you won't even look at me when we pass in the hallway." His face shifted, softened from its usual defensive look. "Please come home, Hermione. I miss you. Actually, damn it all. Don't even come home; please just talk to me. Really talk to me. I miss your voice."
Her face, contrary to his, hardened perceptibly. "Oh, so now you want to talk to me? After these months of near-silence and merely staying out of each other's way, you want to talk?"
Severus looked confused. "What do you mean? We talked."
"Yes, we talked – when you were getting a cup of tea or I was letting you know that I was heading to the Burrow. We talked, but we didn't talk. All I wanted was for you to come home from classes, settle down next to me on the couch, and ask me how my day was, but you never did that. We used to sit down and talk for hours about anything. Now you walk down the hall to your lab and shut yourself in there until I'm sleeping. How is that really talking, Severus?"
He sighed at the sound of his name from her mouth, the first time he had heard it in days. "What? You're blaming this on me? I thought that you wanted to be left alone! I would call your name and you would get exasperated with me or give me an irritated look, so I just figured that you wanted to be left alone. I was doing what I thought was best."
"Oh, like staying for four days with Rosmerta? Definitely seems like it was what you thought was best," Hermione said snidely.
"You're one to talk, Hermione, running off to stay with Weasley as soon as I give you an excuse to. I may have trusted you, but I'm not that naïve. I did happen to be a spy for – oh, the majority of my life." His mouth twisted into a pained smile.
"Me and Ron?!" Hermione shrieked, her voice flying through several octaves. "Now you're accusing me of cheating on you with Ron? I don't even know where you get your ideas, Severus, but now I know why our marriage didn't work out."
"And why's that?" Severus asked coldly, crossing his arms across his chest again.
"Because you never truly trusted me. You were always so quick to accuse me and to get so jealous, especially when you had – have – absolutely no reason to!"
"That sure seems like a bit of a double standard to me." His eyes bored into hers angrily. "I travel to Hogsmeade to pick my wife up a bouquet of flowers and I'm accused of cheating, but my wife runs off to another man's house and I'm not allowed to assume the same thing?"
"No, because you're supposed to trust me!"
"You don't get to lecture me about trust when you clearly don't have any trust in me."
"Trust aside, my assumption was completely based on logic. You disappeared for four days, stayed in the inn with a notoriously flirty woman, and showed up with a bouquet of bloody flowers to show for the entire disappearance. I was very logical in my conclusion."
"I explained everything about that trip, Hermione. I can't control the biggest blizzard I've ever seen in my lifetime. This isn't logic. This is all of your emotions bleeding into your logic and skewing it."
"No, Severus." Hermione shook her head in exasperation. "I'm not having this conversation with you again."
"Won't you at least consider that I was telling the truth?" he ground out in frustration.
"We'll see. Right now, I need to consider eating lunch. And after lunch, I'll be stopping by to pick up some books from our quarters."
She threw the tapestry out of the way and headed to lunch.
oOoOo
She was getting books. She wasn't picking up all of her clothes.
And she had said our quarters. That was a good sign, right?
Maybe there was hope for them yet.