10 Years After
folder
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Snape/Hermione
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
22
Views:
7,026
Reviews:
114
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Snape/Hermione
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
22
Views:
7,026
Reviews:
114
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Chapter 4
10 Years After
Chapter 4
Disclaimer: I own nothing of what you’re about to read, with the possible exception of the plot, although I’m sure it’s been done before. The places, characters, etc. belong to JK Rowling. Thanks.
A/N: Thank you so much for the emails and reviews. I really do appreciate it and they do help me gauge how far this tale will go. This is another rather short chapter that I probably could have just combined with the previous chapter, on hindsight, but alas, I didn’t and such is life. You get an extra chapter out of it. This chapter is a smut free zone, but I might find a way to introduce a little romance into the next one. All I ask is your souls! (cue maniacal laughter).
Godric’s Hollow: March 25, 2008, early morning; Potter House.
Hermione sat at the kitchen table, awaiting her husband. She nervously gripped a cup of tea and listened for the sound of the shower to stop. Halfway through her tea, the shower stopped and a few moments later Harry entered the kitchen dressed in a robe and toweling off his hair.
“Morning, ‘Mione,” he said brightly, “it’s so good to be home, even if it’s only until tonight.”
Hermione looked up, startled.
“Only until tonight?” she asked, “I thought you were staying a fortnight.”
“Oh shit,” said Harry, “I forgot to tell you, I have to do a publicity tour for the team, I’ll be away two weeks touring Europe, America and Canada, then we have the game against Ireland, then Romania, then I should be home again,” he looked at her crestfallen face, “I’m so sorry, honey. I know you wanted to spend some time together.”
“We haven’t had any time together, Harry. Not in months. We’re drifting apart.”
“Nonsense. When I have some free time, we’ll go on holiday. Maybe to that little wizarding island in Greece…”
“We were supposed to do that THIS week, Harry. We had the reception for Albus at Hogwarts tonight, then we were going to head to Corforinu . We had a villa there, Harry, remember? Or is that yet another thing you’ve forgotten?”
“I swear, Hermione, it slipped my mind. I was excited about this publicity tour. Part of it is going to different schools of witchcraft and wizardry and discussing the national Quidditch teams. It’s important, Hermione. Can we reschedule the villa?”
“I doubt it, not without losing a great deal if not all of our deposit. Perhaps I’ll go myself.”
“Hey, that’s an idea. You need a break from your research. Maybe Ginny could go with you, or Tonks.”
“I’ll be sure to ask them tonight when I see them at the reception,” she stated, sourly.
“I’ll make it up to you, ‘Mione, I swear,” said Harry, kissing the top of her head.
“I know, Harry,” she sighed, “at least we have the day…” she looked at Harry’s face, “oh no. Please don’t tell me you have plans.”
“I promised Ron I’d stop over…”
“When does it end, Harry?” askeasked sadly, “When is it my turn?”
“It’s always your turn ‘Mione. You’re my wife and I love you.”
“I don’t even come second anymore, Harry.”
“Of course you do. I mean, you come first. It’s just that work right now…it’s important, honey. If I can keep up this pace for another few years, we’ll be set for life. You can stop your research, we can have children. We’ll never have to want for a thing. I’m doing this for you Hermione. For us.”
He headed into the bedroom to get dressed, leaving Hermione shaking her head. He meant well, she was sure, but she wasn’t sure that this was for them at all. Harry’s words had meaning to her, just not the meaning he intended. There wouldn’t be an “us” for them if they didn’t spend some time together. Hermione got up to continue their conversation in the bedroom but stooped at the door as she heard Harry talking to someone over the floo network.
“It’s going to be great, Ollie! Traveling all over the world, all in two weeks, talking to kids about Quidditch. I’m so excited about it.”
“I am, too Harry,” replied the other half of the conversation, Oliver Wood, “It’s going to be so hard to leave Belinda for 2 more weeks, though. She’s a little annoyed at me. Isn’t it tough leaving Hermione?”
“She’s OK with it. She understands,” replied Harry, “I knew she would. Besides, she’s got her little research experiments to keep her busy while I’m gone…”
Hermione turned around and went back to the kitchen. She was researching a possible cure for both the werewolf and vampiric conditions and Harry considered that a “little research experiment”? She was feted at a multinational conference just two days ago for her developments and he dismissed them? Did he really think that little of what she did? Did he truly think that what she did was “busy work”? She harkened back to their conversation in the kitchen. She realized what he said: You can stop your research, we can have children. Hermione could no sooner stop her work than she could stop breathing. She sighed. These next few weeks would be telling weeks for her. She would go to that reception at Hogwarts. Then she would leave for Corforinu. She would spend the time thinking long and hard about what she wanted. She would try to pinpoint when the road that she and Harry embarked upon together seemed to fork. And most importantly, she would decide what she wanted. This time Hermione would come first, even if only placed there by Hermione herself.
Corforinu, Greece: March 27, 2008, morning; the beach.
Hermione sat looking out at the water. She was dressed in sweat pants and a shirt to brave the early morning chill. The wizarding island, unlike the other islands, was actually somewhat tropical in climate. Where the rest of the country was hovering around 16°C during the month of March, on Corforinu, it averaged 26°C. But the mornings were still chilly. Hermione had enjoyed herself at the reception for Albus Dumbledore, and to both her dismay and her relief, Severus was not in attendance. According to Albus, he was out of the country for a short time gathering some rare potions ingredients during the early spring break that Hogwarts enjoyed as well as taking a much needed vacation. At the party, she had run into Ginny Weasley and contemplated asking her to join her in Corforinu, but then decided to take the time for herself. She needed it. She spent her first day on the island touring the ruins of an ancient temple, then spent a few blissful hours in the local spa. She visited the local apothecary and got lost in a bookstore. She had a quiet dinner alone in a café and retired early after taken a dip in the villa’s private swimming pool. This morning, she awoke early and feeling more refreshed than ever. Watching the sun rise over the beach seemed a peaceful way to spend the time. As she looked out onto the water, watching the first tendrils of light snake across the sky, she was startled by the appearance of a dark haired man who sat down beside her, gently took her hand in his, and smiling shyly said in a soft quiet voice,
“I’m sorry, Hermione.”
(TBC, very soon. I’m becoming slightly enamoured by the potential of this small tale)
Chapter 4
Disclaimer: I own nothing of what you’re about to read, with the possible exception of the plot, although I’m sure it’s been done before. The places, characters, etc. belong to JK Rowling. Thanks.
A/N: Thank you so much for the emails and reviews. I really do appreciate it and they do help me gauge how far this tale will go. This is another rather short chapter that I probably could have just combined with the previous chapter, on hindsight, but alas, I didn’t and such is life. You get an extra chapter out of it. This chapter is a smut free zone, but I might find a way to introduce a little romance into the next one. All I ask is your souls! (cue maniacal laughter).
Godric’s Hollow: March 25, 2008, early morning; Potter House.
Hermione sat at the kitchen table, awaiting her husband. She nervously gripped a cup of tea and listened for the sound of the shower to stop. Halfway through her tea, the shower stopped and a few moments later Harry entered the kitchen dressed in a robe and toweling off his hair.
“Morning, ‘Mione,” he said brightly, “it’s so good to be home, even if it’s only until tonight.”
Hermione looked up, startled.
“Only until tonight?” she asked, “I thought you were staying a fortnight.”
“Oh shit,” said Harry, “I forgot to tell you, I have to do a publicity tour for the team, I’ll be away two weeks touring Europe, America and Canada, then we have the game against Ireland, then Romania, then I should be home again,” he looked at her crestfallen face, “I’m so sorry, honey. I know you wanted to spend some time together.”
“We haven’t had any time together, Harry. Not in months. We’re drifting apart.”
“Nonsense. When I have some free time, we’ll go on holiday. Maybe to that little wizarding island in Greece…”
“We were supposed to do that THIS week, Harry. We had the reception for Albus at Hogwarts tonight, then we were going to head to Corforinu . We had a villa there, Harry, remember? Or is that yet another thing you’ve forgotten?”
“I swear, Hermione, it slipped my mind. I was excited about this publicity tour. Part of it is going to different schools of witchcraft and wizardry and discussing the national Quidditch teams. It’s important, Hermione. Can we reschedule the villa?”
“I doubt it, not without losing a great deal if not all of our deposit. Perhaps I’ll go myself.”
“Hey, that’s an idea. You need a break from your research. Maybe Ginny could go with you, or Tonks.”
“I’ll be sure to ask them tonight when I see them at the reception,” she stated, sourly.
“I’ll make it up to you, ‘Mione, I swear,” said Harry, kissing the top of her head.
“I know, Harry,” she sighed, “at least we have the day…” she looked at Harry’s face, “oh no. Please don’t tell me you have plans.”
“I promised Ron I’d stop over…”
“When does it end, Harry?” askeasked sadly, “When is it my turn?”
“It’s always your turn ‘Mione. You’re my wife and I love you.”
“I don’t even come second anymore, Harry.”
“Of course you do. I mean, you come first. It’s just that work right now…it’s important, honey. If I can keep up this pace for another few years, we’ll be set for life. You can stop your research, we can have children. We’ll never have to want for a thing. I’m doing this for you Hermione. For us.”
He headed into the bedroom to get dressed, leaving Hermione shaking her head. He meant well, she was sure, but she wasn’t sure that this was for them at all. Harry’s words had meaning to her, just not the meaning he intended. There wouldn’t be an “us” for them if they didn’t spend some time together. Hermione got up to continue their conversation in the bedroom but stooped at the door as she heard Harry talking to someone over the floo network.
“It’s going to be great, Ollie! Traveling all over the world, all in two weeks, talking to kids about Quidditch. I’m so excited about it.”
“I am, too Harry,” replied the other half of the conversation, Oliver Wood, “It’s going to be so hard to leave Belinda for 2 more weeks, though. She’s a little annoyed at me. Isn’t it tough leaving Hermione?”
“She’s OK with it. She understands,” replied Harry, “I knew she would. Besides, she’s got her little research experiments to keep her busy while I’m gone…”
Hermione turned around and went back to the kitchen. She was researching a possible cure for both the werewolf and vampiric conditions and Harry considered that a “little research experiment”? She was feted at a multinational conference just two days ago for her developments and he dismissed them? Did he really think that little of what she did? Did he truly think that what she did was “busy work”? She harkened back to their conversation in the kitchen. She realized what he said: You can stop your research, we can have children. Hermione could no sooner stop her work than she could stop breathing. She sighed. These next few weeks would be telling weeks for her. She would go to that reception at Hogwarts. Then she would leave for Corforinu. She would spend the time thinking long and hard about what she wanted. She would try to pinpoint when the road that she and Harry embarked upon together seemed to fork. And most importantly, she would decide what she wanted. This time Hermione would come first, even if only placed there by Hermione herself.
Corforinu, Greece: March 27, 2008, morning; the beach.
Hermione sat looking out at the water. She was dressed in sweat pants and a shirt to brave the early morning chill. The wizarding island, unlike the other islands, was actually somewhat tropical in climate. Where the rest of the country was hovering around 16°C during the month of March, on Corforinu, it averaged 26°C. But the mornings were still chilly. Hermione had enjoyed herself at the reception for Albus Dumbledore, and to both her dismay and her relief, Severus was not in attendance. According to Albus, he was out of the country for a short time gathering some rare potions ingredients during the early spring break that Hogwarts enjoyed as well as taking a much needed vacation. At the party, she had run into Ginny Weasley and contemplated asking her to join her in Corforinu, but then decided to take the time for herself. She needed it. She spent her first day on the island touring the ruins of an ancient temple, then spent a few blissful hours in the local spa. She visited the local apothecary and got lost in a bookstore. She had a quiet dinner alone in a café and retired early after taken a dip in the villa’s private swimming pool. This morning, she awoke early and feeling more refreshed than ever. Watching the sun rise over the beach seemed a peaceful way to spend the time. As she looked out onto the water, watching the first tendrils of light snake across the sky, she was startled by the appearance of a dark haired man who sat down beside her, gently took her hand in his, and smiling shyly said in a soft quiet voice,
“I’m sorry, Hermione.”
(TBC, very soon. I’m becoming slightly enamoured by the potential of this small tale)