Back To Me

With the Passing of Time

Hermione smoothed her hand over the wool poncho she wore over her enormous belly. She was nearing the end of her pregnancy now, and although Ron forbade her to leave the house, she was walking through the snowy streets of Hogsmeade. She stopped at the end of a lane and gazed over the snowy field. It was like someone had lain a blanket over the dirt.


She thought about how that snow was like her life; cold and smothering. She was contemplating this, when her eye caught a flash of red. Upon closer inspection, she realized it was a single red rose. It looked as if someone had dropped it there, and quite recently, as the petals were still velvety soft.


She considered the rose. It was delicate, fragile, thrust upon the harsh rigidity of the snow. It seemed so out of place, yet because it was the only beautiful thing in the storm, it was the glue that held it all together. Just like her unborn daughter. She decided then, that the baby would be named Rose.


She had sent Severus several letters, and all had gone unanswered. She wondered where he was, and if he thought of her. She was still full of bitter resentment towards what Ron had done to her, but despite it all, she was growing rather excited about the prospect of becoming a mother.


She still had not had sex with her husband, but she was growing less cold towards him. She had to, if she was going to try and make their marriage work. After all, what was the point of getting married to save little Rose from a broken home if she was just going to hate Ron? It was painful to admit, but it was time for her to move on from Severus, and try to make it work with Ron. She had her daughter to think about now.


She turned around to walk back when she felt the gush of liquid running down her leg. As she breathed through the first contraction, she apparated to St. Mungo’s with a loud pop.


Rose Ginevra Weasley was born at 7:18PM on Wednesday, February 18th. She had a shock of red curls atop her head, and expressive, amber eyes. Everyone agreed that she had Hermione’s nose, but Ron’s mouth. She was a delightful little baby, and beat her cousin James to the world by about twenty minutes.


As Hermione gazed into the little face, she knew she had to try. She had to try and love Ron, because she loved this little girl so much, she was overwhelmed by it, and she knew that if she ever did anything to disappoint her, she would never forgive herself. She knew Ron could be a good father, and a good husband, if he was given a chance. She decided from that moment, that it was time to put her own wants aside, and think about her daughter.


She felt the tears streaking down her cheeks, and she allowed herself to cry. She had made her decision, and now he was gone, and she didn’t know if she would ever see him again, and for that she grieved. Grieved for the loss of him. She tried to remember his touch, his taste, his smell, but they were fading farther and farther away, and she couldn’t keep them from slipping through her fingers like grains of sand.


Rose was a very delightful child. She got into mischief, as do all children, but she was so intelligent, that she kept her whole family entertained with the idea of what she might do next. She learned to walk the day before she turned nine months old, and she could speak in simple sentences by her first birthday.


Hermione had enrolled her in a special preschool for young witches and wizards, and she was the top of her class. By the time she got her letter from Hogwarts, she was casting spells and brewing potions that weren’t taught until the third year. Hermione was very proud of her daughter.


Rose was a beautiful girl. She had curly hair like her mother’s , but it was red like her father’s. Her eyes were honey colored, just like her mother’s, and she had her father’s complexion and freckles. She had her mother’s small nose and hands, but her father’s pouty smile. Hermione was delighted that her child had perfect teeth, no terrible overbite, like she had had to suffer with.


It was a bit of a surprise to Ron when Rose was sorted into Ravenclaw, but Hermione knew that her daughter’s intelligence would be wasted in any other house, except perhaps Slytherin, in which case it would not have been wasted so much as misdirected.


Hermione, over the years, had slipped into an easy relationship with Ron. She had forgiven him for getting her pregnant, because she loved Rose more than she ever thought possible, but part of her never forgave him for taking away the love of her life.


Even though they did have sex, and they did have a relationship, Hermione never ever got over Severus. Hermione could never fully give her heart to her husband, because a part of it still belonged to Severus.


She tried not to think of him, but she couldn’t help but find her thoughts wandering to him more often than she would care to have Ron know about. She still had no idea where he had gone, or if he was alright, and she felt that perhaps if she just knew that, then she could truly move on. She felt that if she just had the closure of knowing where he was then maybe she could finally let go of him.


Hermione had taken a job at the ministry, working at developing new potions. There were so many occasions when she wished Severus had been around to discuss a particular reagent with, so instead, she discussed these types of things with her daughter, who showed a definite affinity for the subject.


As smart and skilled at potions as Rose was, Hermione would swear she was Severus’ child if she were not absolutely certain that she was Ron’s. In fact, they were all so confident in Rose’s abilities, that, when she was sixteen, they didn’t even consider the possibility that she might not get into N.E.W.T. level potions.


Students that lived in the village of Hogsmeade were allowed to go home on weekends, and so it was no surprise to Hermione when Rose chose to spend the weekend at home the first week in November of that year. No, what was the shock was Rose’s uncertainty about her potions class.


“Mum, I am so afraid I am not going to get into N.E.W.T. potions now,” Rose said, sounding genuinely worried.


“Well, Sweetie, what changed? You were so confident that you were going to get in, what happened to make you change your mind?” Hermione had asked her.


“Well, to be honest, it’s my new professor,” Rose said, sheepishly. “He is very tough. He only takes the best of the best, and I kind of got the feeling that he doesn’t like me very much.”


“What’s all this about a new teacher?” Hermione asked, confused.


“Professor Gilsworth retired, so we got a new professor, but apparently he’s not new, because he taught at Hogwarts before. In fact, you might even know him,” Rose said, taking a bite of an apple.


“Well what’s his name?” Hermione asked, perplexed.


“It’s Professor Snape,” Rose said, chewing.


Hermione paled as the knife she was using to chop an onion sliced through her finger.


“W-who did you say, Dear?” She asked her daughter, oblivious to the blood that was pouring form her finger.


“Mum! You’re bleeding!” Rose said, and cast a healing charm on her mother’s finger.


Hermione came back to her senses.


“Oh, thank you dear,” she said, somewhat absently. “Well I guess I should go get this cleaned up.”


She left the room as quickly as she could. She sat down on her bed and caught her breath.


He was alive, he was alive and well, and teaching her daughter. When she caught her breath, she opened her cabinet and took out a book bearing the title “Advanced Potions Methods”. This she tapped three times with her wand, and opened, to reveal a hollow book. Inside were yellowed parchments and an old photograph. She carefully lifted the photograph and peered into the black eyes of Severus Snape.


She held it to her chest and began to cry. She could not explain why she was so overcome with emotion, but she did not even try and fight it. She just let the tears flow, and when she was finished, she tucked the photograph back into its hiding spot and composed herself.


When she got back to the kitchen, she found Ron and Rose talking.


“Mum, there you are. Are you ok?” Rose asked.


“I’m fine, sweetie,” Hermione replied, still feeling a little shaky.


“So I was telling mum about my new profess---”


“You know what, we don’t need to talk about that right now, Dear. Your father’s only just gotten home, let’s let him relax,” Hermione interrupted, giving Rose a pointed look. “Come now, why don’t you help me with dinner.”


Rose obeyed her mother as her father went into the living room to settle down in front of the wireless for a bit.


“Mum, what was that all about?” Rose asked, when she was sure her father was out of earshot.


“Oh, it’s nothing,” Hermione said, blushing.


“Mum, I’m not stupid, something is going on.”


“Well, your new professor was our teacher when we were at Hogwarts, and he and your father hated each other, so maybe it would be best if you just didn’t mention him in front of your father,” Hermione replied, hoping this response would satisfy her daughter.


“Oh. Well ok,” Rose said, still looking a bit perplexed.


“Why don’t you go outside to the herb garden and get me some rosemary for this stew,” Hermione said, hoping to get her daughter off the subject of Severus Snape.


Perhaps she should go and see Severus. After all, her daughter needed to stay in that class. At least this was what Hermione told herself so that she would have a reason to see him other than for her own purposes.


A/N:Thanks for reading. Please review! I know I've been out of the game for a while but I didn't think I would lose so many readers....hopefully the lack of reviews is not an indication that the story is not being enjoyed...Severus appears in the next chapter, but I think he might need some gentle coaxing from you guys...