Hilltop Cottage

A/N: I\'m so sorry for this chapter...

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Severus paced around his front room in a state of frenzy. He couldn’t believe what was happening to him, or how he had reacted to Hermione. He had known she was there as soon as she’d started to dismantle the wards, but he was feeling like shit so he couldn’t even be bothered to stop her. He knew they would have to see each other eventually, but he hadn’t been prepared for what the sight of the woman would do to him. His emotions had been conflicted by turns, the pain of seeing her battling with the urge to claim her, caveman like, and throw her onto his bed and take her.



The anger was something he hadn’t anticipated, but her barefaced indignation had blindsided him and made him bloody furious. He had thought she would at least have been honest with him, or contrite, perhaps. If she had begged his forgiveness, his might have relented. But the stupid bitch had challenged him, confronted him with her own accusations, and something inside him had snapped. He ran his hands through his hair and tugged at the greasy lengths in frustration, then sat, deflated, on his sofa. He hadn’t meant to turn on her. Despite his feelings, he wouldn’t ever want to harm Hermione. The memory of the terror on her face hounded him, and he closed his eyes in a vain attempt to block it out.





***



Hermione walked slowly into the room and stared at the back of Severus’s head. It was difficult to judge his mood from her vantage point, so she shifted until she was by the window. She leant lightly against the window ledge, her arms folded across her chest. For some time, neither of them spoke, and as usual, Hermione hated the silence and couldn’t bear the atmosphere between them.



‘What do we do now?’ she said quietly, her voice raw with unshed tears.



Severus looked at her with a sneer and shook his head. ‘We don’t do anything. You can do what you damn well want,’ he said coldly.



Hermione had wanted to resolve things, to talk and find out what the hell was going on inside his head, but his attitude towards her made her seethe.



‘What I want, you stupid man, is to know why you would possibly think I was seeing someone else,’ she said.



Severus stood and faced her coolly, but didn’t move. Hermione felt a tremor of relief, because she wasn’t sure she trusted him after what had happened earlier.



‘It didn’t take a genius to work it out, Hermione. The late hours, the convenient invitations to dinner that you knew I would turn down. How perfect it must have been,’ he said, his voice low and smooth.



Hermione stared at him in disbelief. She felt like he had stabbed her, and she held onto the window ledge for support while trying in vain to hide the pain.



‘How could you think that of me? I… I love you,’ she whispered, her bottom lip trembling as she tried to fight the tears. ‘There is no one else, Severus. There has never been anyone but you. You know that!’



‘Love?’ he hissed. ‘How easy that word is for you to say. Do you say it to him, I wonder? And does he believe you, as I did?’



‘Severus, you are being ridiculous! I’ve been working late because I need to complete my work, and if you had just bloody come with me on all of those horrendous events and dinners you would know the truth of it,’ Hermione said sadly. ‘I wanted you to come with me, every time. But you wouldn’t, because of your precious need to stay hidden. They may not have put you in Azkaban, Severus, but you have created your very own prison, right here.’



Severus glared back at her, his jaw set and his eyes glinting. Hermione saw his fist clenching tightly at his side, and she felt for her wand in her sleeve for reassurance.



‘I thought we trusted each other,’ said Hermione. ‘But maybe I was just fooling myself. I assumed that you loved me, but you’ve never said it, have you, Severus? Not once. I wish you had been with me when I won the award. I needed you that night, so much.’



‘I was there,’ Severus said, ‘I did come.’ He had relaxed as he listened to her words, his eyes soft as he looked at her, and it seemed to Hermione that perhaps he was starting to see his error of judgement.



‘I know, and I was grateful, really,’ Hermione said, smiling at the memory of him waving at her. ‘But it wasn’t the same as having you by my side. We could have danced together. We’ve never done that, have we? All of those nights, Severus, I really needed your support.’



‘Show me,’ he said, stepping closer to her a little awkwardly.



Hermione stared up into his face. It shocked her to realise that she didn’t truly know the man before her. He was more complex and insecure than she had ever imagined, and he wouldn’t change, not ever. With growing certainty, Hermione knew what she had to do, and so she pushed on before she lost her nerve and crumbled before him. She knew precisely what he wanted to do, but she shook her head sadly.



‘No, Severus, not this time. If you can’t trust my word, then I don’t see much point in going on with this, do you? I need someone who will be there for me, you see. Someone who can put his own discomfort aside now and again to support me. You couldn’t do that. I don’t blame you, Severus, I really don’t. But I need unconditional love, and I don’t even know if you do love me,’ she said, her eyes filling with tears.



‘Silly witch,’ he whispered. He reached up and stroked away a tear as it fell, and Hermione took hold if his hand and kissed the palm softly before letting it drop.



‘Goodbye, Severus,’ she said quietly.



‘Hermione, don’t… I’m sorry.’ Severus gasped, making a futile reach for her arm as she walked to the door.



‘I know you are,’ she replied sadly, and as the tears started to blur her vision, she stepped outside the house and Apparated away before he could stop her.





***



Hermione collapsed as soon as she landed in the kitchen at Hilltop Cottage, and her throat was wrenched painfully by the sobs that spewed from her. She had never felt so much anguish, and she cried for hours as she replayed her relationship with Severus over and over again. Exhausted, she eventually fell asleep, her cheek against the cold tiled floor, her body curled in a tight ball.



***



Severus stood staring at the back of his front door, willing Hermione to walk back through it. After ten minutes, he realised it wasn’t going to happen, so he walked in a daze to the kitchen and pulled a bottle of Firewhisky from the cupboard. He didn’t bother with a glass.



Slumping onto the sofa, he lifted the bottle to his mouth and took a deep slug, letting the liquid burn his lips, mouth and throat. It was warming, and as the alcohol coursed through his veins, he dissolved in tears as the reality sunk in.



Hermione had walked out of his life, and he knew it was his own stupid fault, which just made it worse. What had he been thinking? He was a spy, after all. He could have just followed her and found out the truth, and they would probably be curled up together in their bed in Hilltop Cottage, loving each other.



He really did love her, with all of his heart. He should have bloody well told her.