A/N: Nothing you recognize is in any way mine. Nor shall it ever be.

Severus has obviously managed to survive, and more on that will be explained in later chapters. This story promises to be long, and will deal with heavy themes that are incredibly personal to me. It will be a journey, bear with me. Thanks!

End transmission

-me

Severus Snape flicked his wrist towards the front door of the apothecary turning the sign hanging there from 'Open' to 'Closed' and set about closing up shop for the day. He turned for the back room to retrieve his cloak from the hook by his desk and remembered to grab the parcel under the register before heading out into the night.

Severus had never intended to survive the war, and for one blissfully quiet month after the war he was able to convalesce in complete silence and peace while the Wizarding World rebuilt after the world, and mourned for their losses. It was a whole month before things were settled enough that Minerva McGonagall showed up at his home on Spinners End to sort his Estate.

"Severus!" she had exclaimed upon seeing him alive and whole, reading a potions journal in his parlor.

"Yes, Minerva. What, pray tell, are you doing in my home? And how did you manage to break through my wards?" In all honesty he hadn't been surprised to see her there. He had been expecting her for some time now, he had simply hoped against hope for more time.

"You are aware that everyone believes you are dead, do you not?" she asked, anger lurking just below the surface of her cool and collected façade.

"You failed to answer my question, Minerva. And yes, it had actually occurred to me that I was counted among the enemy dead. Now if you do not mind I had some reading I had wanted to catch up on. Please, see yourself out," he told her as he looked back to the journal in his hands.

"No I will not see myself out Severus Snape. Now you just see here, I cried for your loss. A memorial is being placed besides Albus' tomb in your honor Severus! You are being hailed the Wizarding World's biggest hero for Merlin's sake. The-Spy-Who-Saved-Us. Harry turned over your memories to be sure your name was cleared, and of course, the ministry saw fit to leak them to the press. And to answer your question William Weasley was kind enough to help me gain access to your home so I may see to your estate. Now will you tell me just what in the hell you were thinking?" she huffed at him, trying to control her overwhelming warring urges to either hug the man or throttle him.

It was easy enough now to look back on that day Minerva had found him in his home and laugh about it. Time enough had passed and the scars had all faded. Once Minerva had lambasted his choice to hide out for what had seemed like never-ending hours she hadn't argued when he had refused the post at Hogwarts. He hated teaching, she certainly knew that well enough. However he had more difficulty turning down her request for potions for the infirmary when he saw the amount she was willing to pay to have him brew. Apparently there had been more than one mishap with Horace left in charge, and she wished to avoid further problems and was willing to make room in her budget to order from outside of the school.

So while everyone worked to rebuild after the war Severus sold his dilapidated little family home and purchased a shop front in Diagon Alley and the flat above it. The summer was nearly over before The Potion Masters Brew was open for business, and with the contract from Hogwarts Severus was doing better financially than he ever had before. It took no time before his apothecary was doing enough business that Severus had to hire part time help to man the counter while he brewed. He knew that for some it was just the pull of celebrity, the chance to gawk at the so called 'war hero' that brought them flocking to his shop every day. But so long as they paid him he truly didn't care why they were there. For others, Severus knew, it was the promise of discretion that brought them to him instead of other apothecaries where one had to worry about gossip.

It was discretion that first brought Miss Hermione Weasley to the shop a year ago, wearing a poor glamour and seeking bruise paste and essence of Murtlap. He didn't ask then, he didn't have to. It was obvious enough to him, but it was none of his business and she wasn't the first battered wife to come seeking his wares.

Hermione became one of his best customers, regularly stopping by for various healing potions and hangover potions. Slowly over the course of the year they built a sort of quiet friendship; one he knew meant more to him than it should, given that she was a married woman, happily or not. Severus did not have many people he would call friend, and never had he expected to count the Princess of Gryffindor among them, but surely and slowly she had somehow managed to interject herself into his life. It had happened so slowly he had hardly noticed it until it was too late, and by then he found he was happy for her company when he had it, and felt bereft of its loss when she was not there to talk to, or to look at if he was entirely honest with himself.

In the beginning she just came by the shop when she was out running errands to pick up what she needed for the week, but after a while she stopped him to ask a question about an article she had read in a potions journal that she wanted his opinion on; and in true Hermione fashion one question turned into many. Soon enough she was stopping by the shop more often, and sometimes when she had no need of potions, simply so she could ask him a question on a topic she thought he might find interesting. He could still remember the first time she called him Severus, and requested that he call her Hermione.

It had been a particularly muggy day last fall when she stopped by the shop in need of more bruise salve, her hair was completely uncontrollable. The frizzy mass had reacted badly to the moisture in the air, and she had apparently done nothing about it; although a part of him would always admire her hairs natural state, in all of its uncontrollable tenacity.

"Miss Granger. If you insist on gracing me with your presence so often, in fact, if you insist on being seen in public at all, perhaps you should do something about that hair, it is a menace." His tone had been joking but she was in no mood for it that day and had merely heard the insult.

"WEASLEY!" she screamed as she wheeled on him, her puffy eyes threatening to tear.

"I beg your pardon." He of course knew what she was on about, but she was especially perturbed that day.

"My name, it is NOT in fact Granger, it is Weasley. Hermione Jean Weasley. Missus Ronald Bilius Weasley if you prefer, and if you can't seem to manage either then just call me Hermione, but do not call me Miss Granger." She was absolutely seething, and her hair made her look like some medusa-esqe demon; it was all rather amusing actually. Severus was starting to think that getting under her skin was one of his high points in the week when he managed.

Stifling a chuckle he simply raised an eyebrow and responded with "As you wish, Hermione."

She was completely flabbergasted, and apparently so tongue tied by her name on his lips that she didn't utter a sound until it was time for her to pay and leave.

Severus packed up her purchases for her, sliding in an extra bottle when she was fishing in her purse, and bid her a good day. She was at the door when he heard her. "Thank you, S-Severus. Have a nice day; I shall see you next week."

"You shall." He smirked at her, it wasn't quite a smile, but it was something.

The next day an owl came with a simple note.

Severus.

It is easier to write than say after all these years of calling you professor, but if you refuse to use my surname I shall refuse to use yours. Thank you, for the potion. You truly are a potions Master, I cannot believe no one ever mentioned this to me, how was it not taught at Hogwarts. I shall have to order more, tell me you have more on hand. My hair. Severus. My hair is wavy, and my brush did not get caught in a tangle of curls once after my bath tonight. Thank you. I truly don't know what I can do to repay you; I think Ron may just have a fit when he sees.

In Your Debt –

Hermione

He laughed then.

That seemed so long ago. Now Severus was headed out, with a parcel of potions in hand. Hermione had owled him with an order yesterday requesting delivery again, as had unfortunately become habit for her of late. She always included a note with her order, and sometimes, if Ron was out, he would stay for a cup of tea when he made the delivery. He found that he missed the more lively discussions they would have in the shop, or occasionally over lunch. Tea in her flat always felt too rushed and too stifled, much like she had become over the past few months. She just hadn't felt up to going out much, and so when she had asked to take advantage of his delivery service he had insisted on walking the short way to her flat himself, if simply for the purely selfish reason that he found he missed her. He wouldn't tell her that, or himself for that matter, and simply told her it was worth saving the Galleons on post.

It truly wasn't much of a stroll down the Alley from his shop to her flat. When he turned to go through the gate to her buildings stairs the smell hit him. A smell he remembered all too well from darker times and those horrid revels, a putrid smell of blood, and urine, and vomit. He felt overwhelming dread wash over him as his steps quickened towards the steps. He hadn't made it but up a few steps when he saw her and rushed up the two flights to where she had fallen.

"Oh Gods Hermione! What happened, who did this to you?" He was kneeling in a pool of blood and sick, but he had been in worse. He gingerly lifted her head and checked for any signs of life when her eyes fluttered open.

She looked like she was trying to speak but there was no sound. It took Severus a second to register that there was NO sound coming from her, when she was obviously wheezing and coughing up blood. With a quick finite he could hear her pleas for help.

"Please Sev-us, baby. Sometigs wrong wit baby." She barely managed to get the words across. It was then that he noticed the blood wasn't just coming from her wounds but was seeping out between her legs. She was nearly eight months along by his calculations. He had been supplying her pre-natal potions since she had discovered her pregnancy. He couldn't fathom how anyone could do this to a woman so obviously pregnant. He knew her husband beat her, but surely he wouldn't go this far, not to endanger her life, the life of his child. Surely not.

Then again he knew how easily domestic violence could turn deadly, he remembered his own childhood all too clearly.

"Shhh. Don't talk Hermione. I'm going to get you to help okay. Hang on Hermione, hang on." And with that he lifted her broken body into his arms and stood up and spun on the spot. With a pop they were gone.

A/N: There you have it. Hope you are enjoying it so far.

Please Review.

All My Love - LILY