7Disclaimer: If this was another work of Robert Galbraith, won't my bank manager burst into glee to have J. 's account in the bank as opposed to sadly contemplating everyday why couldn't I keep it all in the little piggy bank like other penny-savers do?
A./N. : Hello! This is unedited version. I am hoping after reading it, someone might take mercy on me and help me with my intense use of past perfect tense and intense use of commas that are running away from causing havoc in the story. Until such thing happens, I, as a non-English speaker, thank everyone for the patience of reading it. Hope you like it.
An Affair to Remember
There she was, sitting with her friends, chatting, laughing at something that Weasley had said, shaking her head in exasperation with mirth filling her big brown eyes—I know that look. I know all her looks—I remember each and every one of her expression. In my every waking moment, I had been haunted by my memories of her, since the day she walked out of the door of Spinner's End; and she never looked back, and I was left to collect the dust of memories, I have left with nothing to look forwards to—my future had left with her. There is no point… A future is merely time-unbearable, creeping unwelcomingly on me to punish my foolhardiness, my idiocy and my biggest mistake.
Mistake should have been my middle name instead of Tobias, but my father, the original Toby, a learned men that he was, might argue that it was merely but a synonym. I made mistakes right and left, and they won't leave me alone until I atone for them. Joining the Dark Lord and being the primary catalyst in Lily's death had shaped half of my life. I went so much out of my way to rectify them that I found myself at the receiving end of two unbreakable vows. When I jeopardize, I do it grandly. Some say, Lily's debt was all paid for by Nagini's fang—Well, she had said that over and over, so had Lily's son. I hadn't said anything to the brat, but to her I specifically asked not to assume she knew anything of me.
Each time, she would have given me the exact look she had thrown at Weasley's direction not a moment ago and said, "But Sev, I do know you!" Then she would climbed up my lap to embrace my neck with those dainty little two hands and start kissing my nose, she would kiss my nose, my cheeks, my jaws, my chins, my forehead slowly and softly, she would keep kissing until I would give in and grab the hair on the back of her head to kiss her properly on her lips—she was never afraid of my hunger for her. Lily was not my biggest mistake, letting Hermione go was.
She was so young, so pure, so devoted to me—it was eating me up—I couldn't face the fact that I was falling for her despite my reservations, despite my denials. I was angry at myself for my lack of self-discipline and took out that anger on her. I was rude to her in public, in private I had insulted everything but her pedigree and she had only Lily to thank for that bit of relief. What was it that I had said to her in a day such as this when, instead of drowning myself in firewhiskey and self-pity, she had asked me to dance with her? Oh, yes! I told her that I wouldn't get caught dead sullying myself in public in the arms of the likes of her. If the words alone was not sufficiently venomous, Potions Master that I am, I made sure to put enough dose of hemlock extract the way I spat them at her. I made sure people around us stop doing what they were doing to pay attention to us. And she assumed to know me! Hah! Couldn't possibly! I had hoodwinked two of the greatest wizards since Merlin himself, and she thought she knew me!
She had ran away from my sight and cried harder than usual. She'd cried in the arms of Potter—'there I go again driving my girl away from me to a Potter'—I remember thinking. I remember how two of the Potters, one Weasley and a Longbottom barricaded her. I always envied their commitment of friendship with her.
As I'd returned home, home felt empty without her, the victory of showing her one up felt bitter in my mouth than firewhiskey. I felt I had done it finally, I had finally got rid of my sanity along with my last ray of sunshine.
But she had come back, she'd knocked at my door. Knocked? Knocked! She had been living with me for Lord knows when…Eternity? She knew she was keyed into the wards to come and go she pleased and yet, she had knocked! I found it ridiculous back then, but much later as I thought about it more and more it came to me that she was tentative because she was unsure of her welcome.
I had opened the door to her hesitant, puffy red rimmed eyes and ushered her in wordlessly. As I closed the door she turned towards me, "Why Severus?"
The alcohol induced bitterness and cruelty hadn't left me, so I said, "Why not? Because I can, because you make it too easy, because you are wrong to assume too much." I was aiming to crush her, I was going to make her rue the decision to come knocking at my door.
I was having hard times ignoring the state of her appearance and contemplating coming up with a really crude insult one that is fitting for a true Death Eater. It was hard as my mind kept wondering to her puffy eyes and her blotchy nose and cheeks. It kept whispering how they begged to be kissed on, and how since I was the one responsible for the state of her facial abnormality, I should be held accountable to restore them to restore it to its original state by kissing her and comforting her.
She had looked up and search my face for a moment with her ridiculously large watery eyes before saying, "So this was an act? You were play-acting a scene from what? From "Here comes a vicious Death Eater, run little girl run?" Oh, Severus! You had me worried with another one of your little mind games this time. I seriously thought that you don't want me anymore..' She practically crushed into my chest.
Twisted that our relationship was, I had found out inside my heart at that moment that I could never not want her from that point. My darkness had left at the moment she had embraced me and I found myself responding to her in kind. That night my hunger for her had increased ten folds as I had kissed her, made love to her and to make her mine truly, I had asked her to marry me and in the morning we had eloped to the muggle London and become Mr. and Mrs, Snape.
She was happy playing house and I was happy for a while then my dark rider, shadows of my inner evil came clawing out with its weapon of doubts and insecurities, and once again I had returned into my bitterness. Firewhiskey had quicken my downfall. I had reached such a point that poor Toby, drunkard that he was, would have been genuinely ashamed of me. As much as he and my mother had quarreled about whether the alcohol was the cause of our poverty or poverty was the reason for him seeking such a "cheep" recreation such as spending his time at the local pub, my father never made any personal attack towards my mother verbally or physically, whereas I had ever hardly displayed any respect to my wife. No matter how much they had screeched at each other about money and his alcoholism, they were never disrespectful to each other, and at the end of the day he would kiss her head and tell her how tomorrow will be a new day and how he would never step another foot into old Marty's pub, and my mother would reassure him she could manage. And the peace will be restored for about three and quarter days.
I had so little respect for her that I had never acknowledged our marriage in public, forbade her to use her married name. At one fine moment I had pointed out that marrying muggle style was just a Hume, it didn't count as it could be broken by merely a signature. A wizard and a witch marries for life through elaborate ancient traditional bonding ceremony which we hadn't done. So at the eyes of wizarding world she might as well be giving it out for free. When I was good, I wasn't very good and when I was bad I was devastating and deathly. I was full of glee up until she told me, "You don't mean that. You know that I know that it's not true." Of course, it wasn't, I married a 'know it all', didn't I?
It was one of such darkest day alcohol was flowing in my veins instead of blood that I had decided that this marriage had entrapped me and it needed to be dissolved for me to breath freely. I was determined that I was never in love with her, merely paying my debt to her for her kindness. It had to be stopped before her absurd sweetness sickened me to death. If she needed to play house she'd better find another playmate and I told her as much. And all she had asked was, "would it make you happy if I go?" I had responded with absolute positivity stating how miserable I was with her, how I could not stand the sight of her. I had begged her of my freedom and peace and showed her the piece of divorce paper I took time obtaining. From the first day I had met Hermione Granger I had done many cruel things to her, but never went to such a length to convince her of my hatred towards her mere existence.
Still it was alright, she wanted me as much as she wanted the air to breath in, if not more; she wanted me as much as a mermaid would want water—she would die without me she had told me as much. She would try to convince me how wrong I was and the game would begin again, and at the end of it I would show her the spells I had used to forge the paper. Who was I kidding the Hermione Granger I know would never sign a divorce letter to me, she would never sign anything before checking thoroughly. She would tear it up and Incendio it before looking me in the eyes and saying, "very funny, Severus. You are a regular clown and I am so amused—NOT!" She has a funny way of adding negatives at the end of a sentence, with a very adorable eye roll.
So I had decided after such a dramatic performance I deserved a pint, so I went to the Marty's, the stupidest pub of entire Great Britain where my father had frequented when he was alive and miserable.
When I came back home, needless to say I was no less drunk or no less miserable than my father used to be. I had drunkenly looked for her around the house, and all I found was a note stating, "You know I would do anything to make you happy, Severus." And the signed divorce paper on my writing desk. She hadn't signed her note, but six years of having her in my class as most insufferable know it all had made me familiar with her handwriting. How many times had I left her with a comment such as, "I asked for an essay, Ms. Granger, not a novel" or "Are you currently fancying yourself as Homer, Ms. Granger? I am quite sure even Iliad had fewer words."
And now she had left me with only one line, "You know I would do anything to make you happy, Severus." Just eleven words smeared with droplets of tears. Eleven little words and she had finalized it! Or so she'd thought.
"No, Hermione! It's a fake, it's nothing, it just a game, it doesn't mean anything!" I tripped over something in my drunken state and everything went dark.
I thought I had died, turned out I had just passed out from extreme alcohol intake and on my forehead there was a bump size of a potato Hermione liked to bake, such a blunder. Hermione! I need to go to Hermione immediately. I didn't take care of the potato, being potato-head might earn me an extra attention from my wonderfully silly wife. I went to the Potters to find out from a very pregnant Mrs. Ginerva Potter to know that Potter, important auror that he was, was called away to an impossibly dangerous mission around midnight and there's no telling when he would return. My search had only begun. I had searched for her everywhere, pulling my tail between my legs, I went to the Potter resident again, searched each and every Weasley homes, invaded Luna longbottom's ungodly creature hunts and that Abbott family's vacation home. I had methodically weeded out every DA member's wizarding and muggle abode for her. I had monitored her parents' house and work place, but she had just vanished. I even went to the Ministry, but no one had any idea where she was.
Three years had went by and I had never stopped looking, nor have I stopped asking whenever I had seen her friends. Sometimes, it would seem that they knew something they were not telling me. I tried to catch them off guard to cast a little Legilimency, morality was never my strongest suit, but Potter, the brat that he was, had taught some sort of common tricks and tips to his entire kins and clans.
Normally, I never attended to balls such as this one unless Hermione pestered me. Recently I heard a rumor that she had resurfaced and what obvious place for a witch to announce her coming back to the society if not the year's biggest function—Hogwarts Annual Victory Ball.
Now here I am staring at her from the shadows and gathering so much of proverbial wools that Molly Weasley could knit her infamous letter-sweaters for her entire clan time and half. Hermione brought one for me once from her visit at the burrows, which she said was made of love, when I had pointed out "it was clichéd green with obvious silver serpentine SS" .It was big for her, but she had worn it practically every day that winter, I had been secretly wearing it since she had gone.
This is absurd! I should go and sweep her of her feet. As I approached her hoping the crowds around her would wilt away, knowing it won't—those bloody Griffindors… um… a few Hufflepuffs and one or two Ravenclaws were forming a fortress around her. Idiots! Were I to harm her, those idiots stood no chance against me, and they know it. It's a sweet gesture—those idiots would face death willingly for each other to the end.
"Where were you? Have you any idea what you had me through?" I wanted to scream at her, but I didn't. I had a plan, a full proof, fail-safe, flawless plan—I would ask her to dance with me and I know she couldn't refuse me .She had wanted this and given how I had treated her when she had ask for it last time, she would know that I was regretful and changed my ways. I no longer cared for people's frivolous gossip about my private life.
When she's in my arms, I would tell her how sorry I was, I would beg her to come back, I would beg her to forgive me, if public proclamation was all she needed I would shout out to everyone how much I love her, I would make any scene to get her, if she asked for a wizarding wedding I would kneel down on my knees and beg her to remarry me. I would nuzzle her neck, tickle her earlobe with my tongue, I know all the things to make want a kiss from me.
'Good evening, Ms. Granger." I opted for formal greetings.
"Hello, Severus."
We stared at each other, I felt like losing myself in those big brown eyes—brown eyes! Aren't they most common and ordinary sort? Don't at least half of the world possess this eye color? Whoever thinks of getting lost in a pair of big brown eyes? Oh but they haven't seen what I am seeing now, why hadn't I seen it before, surely I had looked at those eyes before, I'd just never really seen how expressive they were, they spoke of her love to me, they mirrored her heart for me… And standing behind her chair, Potter channeled Umbridge by clearing his throat and breaking our trance. She patted his protective hand that was on her shoulder, "It's alright, Harry."
'Yes, it's all right, Harry, Ron and half of the Hogwarts batch of 1997! It is all right, so do you mind moving out of my way and taking your filthy paws off of my wife?' I wanted to hiss out but reminded myself of the necessity of sticking to the plan. Ignoring all, I asked my wife, Hermione would you care to dance with me?"
Her face had ashen, not the reaction I was aiming to get, and she looked at me in utter shock, then so many emotions rushed over her feature at once and she had to drop her gaze to sober up and in a carefully controlled somber tone she said,
"I don't dance anymore, I couldn't…"
"Couldn't or wouldn't?" I asked haughtily.
In a deliberate tone that remind me off a silent grey sky before a thunderstorm she told me "couldn't so wouldn't."
Whatever that meant didn't matter, if speaking in riddles is her new game she would have to play it with her merry little band, I was done with games and alcohol since her departure. She longer cared an iota about me, she was having fun humiliating me in front of her friends. It's her dish of cold revenge and they would probably laugh at how well she served at me.
I turned around humiliated up to my ears, or should I say "in nose deep humiliation" since no wonder my unbelievably large nose would be the subject of their fun-talk. It was a given, since the golden regains of the self-proclaimed Marauders to this date my extra ordinarily large nose had been part of Hogwarts free entertainment.
As I walked away, I heard her calling out my name, "Severus it's not you, it's me."
Oh! That clichéd line not you but me! You ought to have some originality, Hermione! I thought as I walked away from her, just the way she walked out of mine three years ago. I would not go back, this is the end!
I walked straight out of the castle, I had no patience left for any flibbertigibbet's inane chattering, not that I ever had. I started walking towards the black lake, nothing was blacker than my mood at the moment. I walked and walked and walked—I had no idea how many hours that I had walked, as it turned out I had been walking in a circle around the lake, no wonder I wasn't going anywhere guinea pig that I was in the hands of fate.
I looked up to see the lunar position to attempt to measure the time, instead of moon I saw her—sitting on a window sill on top of that thrice damned Astronomy Tower, her head turned this way, I could see from the moonlight she was looking at me. She must have thought what a lunatic I am! Well, that's no news. How long had she been watching me… there might still be some hope left if she had been watching me.
It took me no time to join her on the tower, I literally flew up without giving a damn who saw my secret.
"Hermione!" I called her expecting her to run into my arms in spite of everything, She looked up and for a moment it felt like she had the same idea running in her head, then she turned her face away and dropped her gaze to her feet. I told her everything, how sorry I am for everything, how empty and lost I am without her, how much I miss her, her face, her laughter, how every waking moment had become a living hell for me without her, how each night I woke up screaming her name as all my dreams had become about various ways of her fading away from embrace. I begged her to take me back. I bared my soul and opened my heart, yet she never once looked up, remained unmoving and silent as a rock.
Why won't she look up? Why won't she say something? Anything? All of sudden silence grew heavier as if a burden on the chest, so to lighten it up I asked her to dance again thinking proximity might remind her of how well we fit together, how made for each other we are, of the positive aspects of our tumultuous days, although my ulterior motive might have been to hold her close my heart, breath in her scent of jasmine and gardenia once more.
She never took her eyes off those damned feet! Not even when she told off by saying, "I can't, Severus, I no longer can. It's not possible for me anymore."
"Say no more." I turned around and ran off the stairs as pure white rage blinded me. No one had insulted me in such way, and throughout my life I have been insulted in so many ways that I could write an Encyclopedia on the subject. Not even what Lily did after my camping on Gryffindor corridor was anywhere near it, never mind the marauders. Never have I opened my heart this way to anyone else, not even to Lily, and she did was to stare at her f…e…e…t…!
I ran back up the stairs and slammed the door open. She looked up as the door banged, she was sobbing, I could tell, tears were flowing down her cheeks. I froze on the spot, couldn't move any more as if someone had Stupified me.I had my back at the door as it had decided to close behind me,
"YOU are the one," I whispered, "YOU are the one they took, YOU are the one Potter rescued—that unidentifiable victim from Skeeter's article.
She nodded in affirmation as her sob. It all came to me, she didn't get up or move an inch no matter what I have said because she couldn't. She was not trying to humiliate me, she was trying to tell me all along. The overly protective way her friends acted was not solely due to my presence, but the result of her abduction. Potter must have brought her here at her request, but he surely had been standing guard someplace nearby under that wretched cloak of his equally wretched father. I bellowed, "Potter! Why didn't you tell me before you stupid, moronic, idiotic brat of a dunderhead! Why didn't you bring her to me?"
"I asked him not to—made him take an oath—all of them, really. They wouldn't listen, Harry wanted it desperately, and you know how he idolizes you, he tried several times to trick me into letting you know, so I had make him promise me."
"You did what? Why? Why wouldn't you tell me?" I remember reading about Potter's Dare Devil Death Eater bust and the dark curses they used. I contemplated studying about the dark magic that had rendered the victim paralyzed from waist down, in case someone needed my help. Since no one had contacted me, I thought St. Mungos had taken care of it. Besides, Hermione was on my mind, so I went back to wallowing in my pitiful loneliness.
"I didn't want to burden you, You didn't want me back then, remember?"
I walked up to her, gently put my hands on her shoulder to turn her towards me as I said, "there hasn't been a single moment in my life since I woke up from Nagini's bite and saw you worrying your lips with teeth, that I had 'not want' you, you silly thing, haven't you heard anything I have been telling you all night long? I am crazy about you. I am lost without."
"But, Severus, it's too late, I can't even stand on my two feet, let alone dance with you. Oh! How I dreamed of it all my life and now it's too late." Despair in her tone broke my chest. I straighten up saying, "Nothing is too late, Hermione. You just wait till I come back."
"No, Severus! Where are you going?" her hand shot up to catch mine.
I patted them, "I will be right back, my love."
"Severus Snape! Where are you going?"
"I am going to kill them, where else do you think I'm going?"
She tightened her hold on my hand, "Don't! They are not worth it."
"Not Worth it? Hermione are you mad?"
"Does madly in love with count? Long winding way of life may have separated us but I have found you again. Now that I have your love I don't want lose you. I don't care to lose you for your misguide sense of revenge on any big bad Death Eater rotting in Azkaban."
"It's not misguided, they harmed you.
"They are in Azkaban. A tooth for a tooth will render the whole world grumpy, who would want to see toothless gummy smile?'
"Now you are twisting Gandhi's eye for an eye quote, know it all."
"What if I am? Would you shut up and hold me if I am?"
I required no farther invitation.
Eventually as our fervor of affection slowed down a little and over the course of it somehow we have ended up on the floor in the arms of each other. I was twirling her hair in my finger when I said, "Hermione, sweet heart, my love I have a confession to make."
"What is Severus? Have you been seeing someone, three years is a long time, I understand."
"Of course not! What kind of man do you think I am? I have a wife!"
"Good, because I would castrate you if you truly did."
"So when you say "I understand" really you don't understand?"
"Of course I don't, Wait! Did you say you HAVE a wife, but we signed…"
"It was a fake, I forged it."
"Severus Tobias Snape! I am going to kill you!"
Potter poked his stupid little head from the door grinning like idiot, "Everything okay, Herms."
"Everything is perfect, Harry. Just the way it should be, wonderfully perfect."
I pointed my wand at the door and it slammed on his face bellowing my sentiment, "Go away, Potter!"
Hermione swatted my wand arm playfully, and my lips twitched upwards as I captured her lips with mine, "perfect, just the way it should be, wonderfully perfect!"
Finish.
A homage to Carry Grant's An affair to remember movie.