The Wrong Time

Thoughts and Revelations

Severus set the radio back on the nightstand. He felt like a complete fool. He didn’t even know who “Nancy” was. He didn’t know her at all.


But you do know her, he reminded himself. You just don’t know what she looks like, or what her real name is.


He was surprised by these thoughts. It was true, though. He did know her. They had talked about anything and everything from the mundane to the completely serious. He knew that her favorite color was green and that she liked to eat ice cream even in winter. He knew that she despised Celestina Warbeck, and adored jazz music. He knew that when she cried, she hated herself for showing weakness, even though she was probably the strongest woman he had ever known.


He knew that she was a Gryffindor, because she was so brave and curious all the time. He also knew that she had Slytherin tendencies, like when she gave the other woman a third boob. He laughed at the memory of her telling him.


He knew that she must be petite, because if her husband was a Quidditch referee, he could not be too large, and if he could overpower her, she must have a pretty small frame. He knew that her children meant the world to her, but that she missed making a difference intellectually. He knew that she was absolutely brilliant, because their work required it.


He also knew that she loved to read, and that her favorite flower was the lily.


But most of all he knew he had fallen in love, because he had only ever felt this way once before, and the name of that woman was on his mind mere seconds ago when he was thinking about flowers.


Lily. Lily Evans. He loved her for a very long time. He had long since gotten over her, but she would always remain in his heart. Your first love always will.


He lie in his bed, looking at the ceiling. Falling in love again was dangerous. What if she didn’t return his affection? What if he was just a man doomed to a lifetime of unrequited love? Gods knew he would deserve it. He turned over, to stare at the wall. In just days, she would be here. He wondered if he would be able to get used to calling her by her real name.


Nancy had become so familiar. He had long since given up on guessing her true identity. He would know soon enough. After all, Minerva had said they were acquaintances many years ago…it was quite probable he wouldn’t even remember her. It was with these thoughts and reassurances that he fell into a deep slumber.


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Hermione lie in her bed, tangled in the sheets. She couldn’t sleep. She kept thinking about Silvano. Now that the plans were definite, she couldn’t help but think about how things would be when she met him. She thought about the things she knew about him.


He was a lover of jazz and classical music, as was she. He liked to go wine tasting, which made a lot of sense, since he lived in wine country, and had his own vineyard. She imagined with his knowledge of potions that his wine was absolutely exquisite. She always loved wine too, but a cheap wine would never do it for her. Ron never felt that spending a few galleons on a decent bottle was worth it.


“Why pay that much when it’s just a few sickles for a jug of Firewhisky? It just doesn’t make any sense, love. If you’re gonna get pissed, there’s no faster way than with Firewhisky.”


Hermione sighed at the memory. How had they ever ended up married? It seemed much more likely that she would end up with someone like Silvano. Her stomach jumped at the thought. She brushed it aside. She must not have eaten enough.


Her life was definitely going to change, and it would be for the better. Twenty years had been long enough to waster her life. She vowed that she would no longer push aside her hopes and her dreams. She could still be a mother and have the world at her feet. With that thought, she finally drifted into sleep, filled with dreams about sipping wine in the Tuscan countryside.


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Hermione awoke early. She got herself showered and dressed. She needed to get back to the house before the children awoke, as she promised. She wanted to stop at the Burrow first and pick up Josiah.


She stepped onto the worn carpeting. The smell of bacon filled the air, and she could hear Josiah in the kitchen banging a wooden spoon against a copper kettle.


She walked into the kitchen and was greeted by Molly, still in her dressing gown.


“Hello, Dear,” Molly said, hugging her tightly. “Did you two talk to the children, then?”


“Yes,” Hermione said, bending down to kiss her son.


“How did they take the news?”


“Well, I suppose they took it as well as could be expected. They are not excited about the baby, though,” Hermione said.


“Baby, Dear?”


Hermione felt her stomach lurch. So Ron had not told his mother about the pregnancy, then.


“Lavender is going to have a baby,” Hermione said flatly.


“Oh, Dear,” Molly said, gathering Hermione in a sympathetic hug. “I’m so sorry.”


“It’s not you who should be sorry,” Hermione said softly.


The air around them was tense.


“I suppose I should head over to the house, then,” Hermione said after a few minutes. “I’d like to be there when the children wake up.”


Molly nodded in understanding. Hermione bent down and picked up Josiah.


“I’m going to Italy in a few days. Ron and I have decided that Josiah will spend part of the week with me, and part with him and Lavender. Whenever you want him, just let me know. I will set up the floo when I get there so that you can send me direct letters if you want to. I don’t want anyone to think that my moving to Tuscany is going to stop them from seeing Josiah. I’ll still come around too,” She added when she saw the crestfallen look on Molly’s face.


“Alright, Dear. I suppose that now it would be silly to hold on to any hopes of you two working things out,” She said, defeated.


“Yes, it would,” Hermione replied. “It’s time for us all to move on. We have the children to think about now.”


Molly nodded as Hermione turned to leave.


She stepped through the green flames into the living room of the familiar house. The house was silent. She sighed in relief. She would have breakfast on the table before the children woke.


She put Josiah on the carpet with a few of his toys, and was taking down a skillet from the hook above the stove when a sleepy Lavender Brown walked into the kitchen. Hermione’s face was blazing.


“What are you doing here?” Lavender asked, her face screwed up as if she had just smelled a jug of sour milk.


“I think I should be asking you the same question,” Hermione shot back, setting the skillet calmly onto the burner.


A/N: Thank you all for reading. I hope that this chapter answers any questions you may have had about just how far the correspondence between Severus and Hermione had gone. I suppose I did not make it very clear that they had been talking for a while, and for that I apologize. Please review!