Hilltop Cottage

A/N: Thank you all for the reviews, and your patience! This chapter is short, but necessarily so.

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Severus didn’t sleep a wink. The bed felt uncomfortable, the sheets irritated his skin, and he couldn’t stop his brain from thinking of Hermione, no matter how hard he tried. He anticipated that she would try to Floo to Spinner’s End to find him, but by four in the morning he realised it was unlikely. Had she returned home and not been bothered by his absence? Or… and this was something he hadn’t even considered until now… had she returned at all?



It hadn’t occurred to Severus that anything but work would distract Hermione, but perhaps that was naivety on his part. She was a talented and intelligent witch, beautiful and beguiling. Had she met some younger, brighter wizard at one of the interminable functions she’d had to attend? Was he, a faceless, but no doubt virile and handsome Lothario, the reason she had just sloped off to dinner with Proctor Prewitt without mentioning it? How convenient, to assume he wouldn’t go with her.



Severus felt his stomach churn with anxiety, and he staggered to the bathroom to throw up. Splashing his face with water, he glanced at his reflection in the mirror and noticed the sagging, dark circles below his eyes and the pale, sickly pallor to his face. With a snort of derision, he stumbled back to bed and climbed back under the covers, convinced that he had lost Hermione to another and not blaming her one bit.





***



Hermione managed to leave work on time for the first time in a month, and she had a spring in her step when she arrived at the Cottage. She couldn’t wait to see Severus after missing him the night before, and wondered if he wanted to get a Chinese take away. It had been ages since they’d had Crispy Chilli Chicken, and her mouth watered at the thought of it.



Stepping out of the Floo, she dumped her handbag on the armchair and scanned the living room for him. Obviously not there, she went into the garden, but there was still no sign of him. He must be brewing still.



Back in the house, Hermione put the kettle on and busied herself making tea. As she fished her teabag out of the mug and walked to the bin, she felt something under her foot, and bent down to lift it.



With a sense of dread, she realised it was the note that she had left for Severus in her haste to leave last night, and she could tell it had been crushed. She held the hard, spiky ball in her hand and stared at it. He wasn’t home last night, and she saw no sign that he had been in the house today. She realised that there was something wrong, and that by the way her note had been demolished, Severus had been very angry.



Hermione abandoned her tea immediately. She grabbed her bag and a handful of Floo powder, and shouted ‘Spinner’s End,’ as she stepped into the fireplace. In a flash of green flame, she spun around, and found herself exactly where she had started. Panic started to bubble inside her. He had blocked the Floo, she couldn’t get in, and she had no idea why.



It would take her twenty minutes to walk the distance to the house, but now that she was using her wand, Apparition would be a better option. She had no doubt his house was warded to the hilt, so she spun on the spot and landed in Spinnerbottom and marched up to his front door without caring if she had been spotted by Muggles. She felt his wards as she approached, and discreetly, she dismantled them until she was able to cast ‘Alohamora’ on the lock.



She slipped inside warily, not knowing what to expect. It was past dusk and the evenings were starting to draw in. There were no candles lit on the ground floor of the house, and Hermione shivered in the eerie half-light as it cast a pale grey light over the furniture in the front room. Wrapping her jacket around her a little more, she started to walk up the stairs, avoiding the broken one so it wouldn’t creak. She held her wand aloft, and as she reached the top stair, she could see the flicker of light coming from beneath the door of Severus’s lab. She could hear movement beyond the door and approached slowly. It surprised her, how uncomfortable she felt, when they had been sharing a life for almost five years. Pausing briefly, she knocked on the door.



‘Enter,’ Severus mumbled.



Pushing the door open, Hermione gasped at his appearance. He was sitting on the stool behind his workbench, the steam from the cauldron causing his hair to fall in thick, unhealthy lengths around his face. He looked pale and drawn, with dark circles around his eyes and a dead, hollowness to his cheeks. He didn’t even look at her as she stepped forward, just continued to stir his cauldron lethargically, his eyes flat and staring at nothing.



All fear and uncertainty fell away as she walked to him and wrapped her arms around him gently. He stiffened under her touch and shrugged her off, but didn’t speak.



‘What is it, Severus?’ she asked him softly, feeling incredibly worried and more than a little hurt. ‘Are you ill?’



He raised his gaze and stared at her, narrowing his eyes. ‘Would you care if I was?’ he said harshly, dropping his stirring rod with a clang against the side of the cauldron and pacing across the room.



‘What do you mean?’ Hermione frowned. ‘Of course I would! That’s a stupid thing to say. What is going on, Severus?’



‘There’s a good question,’ he muttered. ‘Why don’t you tell me?’ He turned to face her, and Hermione could sense a change in his demeanour from the other side of the room. She could almost feel his anger as he stared at her, but she had no idea what he expected her to say.



‘Why are you angry with me, Severus?’ Hermione’s voice was incredulous, and her own ire was starting to rise.



‘I do not like being made a fool of witch, and especially not in public. You might have had the decency to finish our relationship, before commencing a new one.’ Severus’s voice was low and quiet, but trembled with fury as he spat the words out.



‘What?’ Hermione shouted at him. She strode over to where he was standing and poked him firmly in the chest. ‘Are you accusing me of cheating on you, Severus Snape?’



Severus grabbed her wrists and pushed her to the wall.



‘Enough!’ He roared at her, his face pulsing and his eyes flashing with anger as he glared into her eyes. Slowly, he stroked his finger down her cheek, as if to remember the feel of her skin, but his face was pale and emotionless, his eyes blank.



‘I understand, witch,’ he whispered. ‘I wouldn’t want to stay with me either.’



He pushed himself away from her and walked out of the room, leaving Hermione shaking and tearful against the wall.



Shock rippled through her. She had no idea where this had all come from. Why would he think this of her? She loved him, for God’s sake. He was hers, and she was his. That was the way it was.



She took a deep, shuddering breath, wiped the tears from her cheeks, and followed him.