'Severus?'

He looked at her beautiful face, trying to memorize everything at once. Her concern for him, that slight furrow between her brows.

'My sweet Hermione..'

He pulled her into his embrace and she willingly let him, not understanding, but wanting to give comfort to this man and be comforted.

Snape placed his chin on top of her head and closed his eyes. Hermione shivered a little and Snape conjured a toasty blanket over their cooling bodies. They stayed like this for a very long time and eventually, exhausted from their earlier exertions, the younger couple fell asleep.

He could feel her body relax with sleep as her hug on him slackened. He smiled a little to himself and gently lowered her on the bed so as not to wake her. He lay beside her, one hand curled possessively over her waist. Kissing her forehead, he whispered softly, 'Please don't hate me for this. I wish there was another way.' His eyes welled with unshed tears and he strengthened his resolve.

'Ob…..obliviate.'

~x~

Hermione struggled to take a deep breath and jerked herself out of the Pensieve.

'How dare he?'

The late Snape had erased her memories of their times together. She only recalled their first night and his cruel dismissal the next morning. He had left that memory intact so that her hate for him could fester. Gave her a reason to hate him and move on with her life. She had a suspicion on the why, but she had to know.

Hermione dove into the Pensieve once more.

~x~

It was after Snape had try to go after her and she had slapped him in front of everyone. He was in an abandoned room. Snape looked like he had aged 10 years, his eyes dead, his expression tortured. Hermione's heart clenched. She was the one who had turned him into this. She reached out to touch him but being a memory she just passed right through him.

He was hopelessly drunk, slouched lazily on a chair, staring into the Mirror of Erised. His usual black jacket was unbuttoned up the sleeves and his cloak lay in a pool on the floor. Hermione followed his gaze into the mirror. Being in his memory, she could see what he saw.

She walked closer.

Instead of the decrepit room, they were in, the reflection showed a cosy home. Hermione saw herself looking back, a slightly older and plumper (gasp!) version of herself. She was holding hands with Snape, their hands and wedding bands intertwined. A streak of gray highlighted his usual black hair and it was cropped shorter. Seated on the ground, staring up to them was a toddler who, no doubt, was their son. The kid had both hands up in the air, asking to be carried up. Older Snape's lips twitched involuntarily into a smile and he mouthed a clear no, along with his son's name which Hermione could not make out.

The mirror cracked right between their reflections. Hermione took a step back in surprise and looked back at Snape. His hand, palm open now revealing the scar was reached out toward his imagined family. Tears were streaming down his face but he was not sobbing, not grieving for what he desired that will never come to pass.

The cracks on the mirror spread, distorted the vision. The mirror of Erised was a very old piece of magic that was protected by Dumbledore's spells when it hid the Philosopher's Stone. Snape, as drunk as he was, was removing the wards one by one in his grief. His jaw clenched at the effort but his hand did not waver. His emotions were so strong, he did not even need his wand to focus his magic.

He clenched his fist and the mirror exploded outward, destroying the reflection of his desire, his family forever. Hermione flinched automatically but she was unharmed, safe in his memory. Shards of glass cut into his face, his hands but Snape did not care about such trivialities. He pulled out a sharp piece that was embedded in his hand, unsteadily, looked into it. It was now an ordinary piece devoid of magic, and only showed his own, miserable face. A few drops of tears fell onto the shard blurring his reflection, mixing with the blood from his hand. He let out a strangled sob and flung the piece away from him.

Burying his face in his hands, he wept unashamedly to his heart's content with no one to witness, no one to comfort.

'Hermione..'