Eternal Mistakes On The Spotless Soul

A/N: Thank you, each and every one of you, who continue to read this story and review it. From the sounds of things, I’ve upset quite a few readers, but I think I’m happy to know that I’m at least making people feel things, even if it is hatred or utter frustration toward me for not making this story all roses and happy bunny fluff. Sorry, I need the bunny fluff to cushion my bum while I sit here typing. :-p Anyway, onward we progress!



Severus Snape was not a man of much patience, hence never pursuing the career path of doctor, and when he was forced to stand on the front stoop of the House of Potter, knocking several minutes solid against the door, it did little to improve his already furious mood. When the door finally opened, he was greeted with a rather disheveled looking Harry Potter, donned in muggle jeans, and no shirt, his hair a scraggly mess. But the door was forced shut as quickly as it was opened.



“Potter!” he bellowed. “Get back here and open this damn door or I’ll blast it open!”



It took another moment before the door was opened, Harry reappearing the doorway, his appearance the same as before. “What?” he spat.



Severus narrowed his eyes at the wizard who had been the bane of his existence for the better part of his life. “Where is she?”



“Who?”



“Granger.”



“Your guess is as good as mine.” Harry made to push the door shut, but Severus leaned his arm hard against it. “Why don’t you just—”



“If the next words out of your mouth are ‘Sod off’ or anything remotely close, so help me, Potter, I’ll blast you six separate ways to Sunday.” He growled. “I do not intend to conduct business on your front stoop like some traveling salesman. Now move or I’ll move you.”



Only the slightest trace of his lightening bolt scar remained on his forehead and you had to look quite hard to see it, but when Harry’s emerald eyes lit up with fury it was almost as if it were outlined tenfold. He did not step aside, but did not make to strike back when he was shoved, if a bit brutally, out of the way. Severus Snape marched into the split level house of Harry Potter, heading up the stairs rather than down, and moved straight to the liquor cabinet. “Please, can I get you a drink?” the younger boy growled.



“Save the pleasantries, Potter.”



Severus pulled a bottle of aged brandy from inside the glass door and poured himself a glass. He seated himself on the couch and gazed at the Boy-Who-Lived. “Where has she gone?”



“I don’t bloody know. And since when do you care?”



Severus shot the glass back, downing its contents. “Since I was tricked by the ministry.” He hissed. He was not about to explain the more sordid details of the baby, surely they were already common knowledge as the whole thing had been blown up on the cover of the Daily Prophet the day after the accident. Some prized idiot had managed to get a photograph of him holding Nalina’s bleeding body at the scene of the accident. Several of the neighborhood lawn gnomes had met their end the morning Severus had seen the picture. And several more met a more unfortunate doom after he read the adjoining article.



“Tricked into what, Snape?” he spat. “Why the hell would you come here?”



“She’s your bloody friend. And since she and your bloody wife decided to—”



“Ex-wife.”



“What?” Severus snapped.



“Ex-wife. I haven’t seen Ginny since the night before she left to crash your wedding.” Harry narrowed his eyes. It still hurt. There had been no explanation, just a simple note that had read, ‘Harry, I’m running off with Draco. I’m sorry. The divorce papers are in the top drawer in the study.’ He’d spent a solid two days in the bottom of several bottles of rum after having found that note the following morning. Harry had not seen Hermione in person for weeks, not since the last time he and Ginny had popped over for dinner. The first time he’d seen her was on the cover of the Daily Prophet the day after he’d discovered Ginny’s note.



“She didn’t come here, then?” Severus stood from the chair and began to pace around the room.



“Do you honestly think I’d tell you even if she had?” he snarled.



“Potter, if you know what’s good for you, you’ll tell me right now.” In one quick step he’d hoisted the topless wizard up by the shoulder and pushed him hard against the wall. “Do not play games with me.”



Harry was strong, but was no match for Severus’ fury. He struggled but only briefly against the other and then closed his eyes before attempting to gain his composure. “She hasn’t. I haven’t seen Hermione in weeks.” He said, but his tone was no less defiant than it had been moments ago.



Severus released his grip on Harry and resumed his pacing. “Where would she go?”



“I don’t get it, Snape. Why do you all of the sudden care about what’s happened to Hermione?”



“I don’t care—”



“Then why are you here?”



Severus paused in his pacing. “Because that foolish girl has left that baby unattended, and Shacklebolt, the daft dolt, has tricked me into signing the papers. If I don’t get her signature on those release forms he’s going to dump that little chit on me, and I want nothing to do with her bastard child!” he growled.



“You’re the father—”



“I was a sperm donor,” he growled. “It was—” but he caught himself. Of late, Severus had not been particularly good at wrangling in his emotions. Too many years spent harboring them deep inside, all broken down in three short years with Nalina, combined with the loss of his wife-to-be and daughter, had him reeling on the edge of emotionally unstable. “It’s none of your damn business what it was, Potter. But I refuse to be burdened with her mistake!” he spat.



Harry was quiet for a moment. “I’ll take the child.”



“You can have it, I don’t care. But legally my hands are bound by the crushing claws of the damnable ministry unless that bloody git Granger signs these forms!” he seethed. There was nothing that would have irritated him more than the idea of Harry Potter raising his offspring, had he actually cared what happened to the child in question. But as he did not, it didn’t bother him at all.



There was a silence that fell over them, and for a moment Harry looked as if he might speak, but then he disappeared down the stairs, and then down the stairs again, to the lower level of the house. It was several minutes before he came back upstairs, a small bag in his hand. “I don’t know if this will help, but it’s the best I can offer.”



Severus took the bag. “What is this?”



“I found it tucked in with Ginny’s things that remained on the bed after she’d cleared out the rest of her property. I haven’t had a chance to properly go through it, but it’s Hermione’s. I think she may have left it here the day her and Ginny set off to— well, that day.” He pulled the drawstrings of the bag and myriad of things began to tumble out, but Severus and Harry quickly caught the items and shifted the bag. “I’m not sure what good it will do, though there is a diary in there, like I said, I haven’t gone through it, but it appears to be the one she was keeping during the pregnancy.”



Severus said nothing. He pulled the drawstring on the bag closed and then nodded curtly at the boy before turning on his heel and stalking to the stairs. In moments he found himself outside the Potter residence, bag in hand. The door was slammed behind him. Perhaps Potter was right, it wasn’t much, but it was a start. He needed to think. Without a moment’s hesitation, Severus closed his eyes and apparated with a pop, appearing just in Hogsmeade. He needed to be in his office where he could think uninterrupted thoughts. Fortunately for him, the students were enjoying summer holidays and the staff who stayed knew better than to bug him. The long path seemed endless as he began his trek up toward the castle of Hogwarts.