Eternal Mistakes On The Spotless Soul

A/N: Well this chapter came along a lot quicker than I expected it would, but when certain snivelly people whinge from their office about crying midday because now they might feel for the woman they’re so compelled to hate, well, anyway. I’m sorry that I can’t thank many of you individually here, so to my loyals and faithfuls, I thank you and I hope you are enjoying the story, however dark and unsettlingly unhappy it may be at the moment.

Sljh— bare with me, I promise you it deserves its categorization as is, and thank you for the lengthy review, I do love reading them. I can tell I’m getting people worked up over this, but I suppose I prefer them to be violently voicing their opinions over things and be passionate about them (even if it means disliking me for the decisions evolving here) then simply gooing in squee over how hot Sev and Hermione can be together. But I thank you for your review.

NarcissasSister— Remember, Curiosity killed the cat, how many lives does your pussy have left? I thank you for your review, and am pleased to know I’m killing you over what’s going on. ;-) Do keep reading and reviewing for me! And yes, poor Severus!

ArabellaSnape— I’ll have you know I giggled myself into a fit of hysterics reading that. It pleases me to know that at nearly 3 in the morning (Sydney Australia) that there are people on the other side of the world doing exactly what I’m doing, avoiding doing actual work for the sake of sobbing over Severus Snape. I believe that is exactly what I’m meant to do, give you back story so that you can cry a bit more, feel guilty about how much you hated her, etc. Yes, I know. I’m evil, and sadistic. I do hope your boss allows mid afternoon tea breaks or some such. And I still stand by my previous recommendation, Kleenex and Ben & Jerry’s.





The pounding was not so much unsettling as it was annoying, and he was happy to leave whatever idiot that rested on the other side of his front door there for all hours of the day until eventually they tired and left. It was, however, the deep booming voice that forced him to answer the knock. Severus stood in the doorway, frowning at the large, dark skinned man, but did not make to allow him entry into his house.



“Severus,” said Kingsley Shacklebolt, nodding to the other as he did.



“Minister,” Severus said.



He sighed. “You have ignored my posts for nearly a week now. I did not wish to have to make this visit in person.”



“Then you shouldn’t have.”



The Minister of Magic narrowed his eyes. He had been reluctant at first to expunge Severus Snape’s record after the final battle, despite the testimony of Albus Dumbledore’s portrait, and various memories viewed in the pensieve. He was even more weary to reinstate the man as a professor at Hogwarts, but again had been swayed by the portrait of the previous Headmaster. “I’d prefer not to do this in the blazing heat of the midday sun.”



Severus said nothing but stepped aside, allowing the wizard to step into his home. He was not used to company, and those that did visit him had often been entertained by Nalina. Of course they had seldom been seen by anyone other than her father or half brother and even then their visits had been few and far in-between. He led the Minister into the living room and took a seat without offering one to Kingsley.



Kingsley sat down on the sofa opposite the armchair in which Severus sat and he folded his hands in his lap. “You know why I’m here.”



“I have ignored your post, Minister, because I have no say in the matter.”



“You know very well that is not the case, Severus.” He reached into his robes for a scroll. It was not an easy problem that had fallen into his lap, and usually cases of this nature were simply overlooked, orphans were not really the business of the ministry, but this particular case had been bustled about, no one wanting to lay a hand on it, and had eventually found its way to his inbox.



“Kingsley, I thought a man as bright as you would have understood that my response, rather lack there of, meant that I was clearly disinterested and had nothing further to say on the matter.”



“Be that as it may, Severus, as the only remaining biological parent, you have to sign off on the adoption papers.”



Severus paused for a moment, bitter barb poised on his tongue. He allowed what the Minister had said to run through his ears once more. The only remaining biological parent, but further thoughts on the matter were pushed to the back of his mind as he released his words, stinging insult and all. “Do you really wish to force the hand of the unwilling sperm donor? Given my past do you really think that’s wise?” he sneered.



Kingsley stood from the sofa and placed the papers on the coffee table. “Severus, no one will touch the child, not after learning that you’re the biological father,” he said flatly. Although he had known this was going to be difficult, he had not anticipated this much resistance. “And the ministry’s hands are tied, without Hermione Granger to sign off on the forms—”



“And what exactly is Granger’s excuse for not signing them?”



This was the part he had dreaded the most. Although he had no knowledge of how Hermione had come to Severus and how Severus had told her off, he had heard, of course, of the accident and the interrupted wedding. Try as they might, with the help of the finest Aurors from deep within the ministry they were unable to locate Hermione Granger. It was as if she had disappeared, or possibly never even existed. Ginny Weasley and Draco Malfoy appeared to be on the lam, though running from what he did not have the time nor resources to find out. Even Harry Potter was clueless in locating the missing witch. “She is gone.”



Severus took that in the most literal sense that he could, not allowing his mind to process what all it might have implied. He knew this trick all too well, vague answers to provoke questions and thoughts. But he would not fall victim to a tactic he had used on countless others many times before. “Good riddance,” he muttered and then stood from his chair, sweeping across the room to the liquor cabinet. “Minister, if you would kindly take your leave.”



Kingsley was speechless. Grief was difficult, and different for every person, however, he had not believed the accounts that the man before him could be so utterly heartless. Cruel, yes, snarky, snide, and at times down right mean, but to write the girl off with such finality startled him to anger. “Severus Snape—”



“Don’t mess with me, Kingsley,” he turned to eye the other, a glass of brandy now in his hand. “I know my rights and by extension, the power of yours. You cannot force me to sign the papers. The child will be left a ward of the state, even if someone comes along wishing to adopt him, so long as one of the biological parents remains alive, you know it and I know it.” He sipped from the glass. “Dump the thing in a muggle orphanage, no one will be the wiser and it becomes no one’s problem.”



“Unthinkable.” The darker man said, losing his temper quite quickly.



“Regardless of your capabilities to think on the matter, I’ve said it. Now do it.” Severus took another swallow of his drink. “Or don’t, I care not. It does not effect me. That abomination has no connection to me, nor I to it. I wish to be left alone in my time of mourning. Now, show yourself to the door.”



Kingsley was livid. But more so at the fact that Severus Snape was right. He could refuse, and legally there was nothing that the ministry could do about it. Snatching up the scroll, he stormed out of the man’s living room and had almost made it to the front door when a thought struck him dead in his tracks. He nearly smirked, a smirk worthy of the man to which the following comment was directed. “You leave me no choice, Severus.” He paused for a moment, taking a slow step toward the door. “As the only remaining biological parent, I’ll sign over the papers to say he is only suitable in your care.”



The sound of glass breaking against the hardwood floor filled the air, and Kingsley smiled. At once Severus had stalked through the living room and stood face to face with the Minister of Magic. “Give me the damn papers.”



Kingsley was reluctant to hand him the scroll, but Severus swiped it from his grip, grabbed a quill of the table near the foot of the entrance hall staircase and scribbled his name on the paper. He froze, narrowed his eyes and growled. “You knew this needed both signatures,” he hissed.



The minister nodded. “And now that you’ve signed it, the boy will be your responsibility until Hermione Granger signs it.”



Severus’ face turned a boiling shade of red. “Where is she?”



Kingsley said nothing.



“Where is she?” he demanded, towering a full two heads over the Minister.



“We don’t know, Severus.”



He crumpled the scroll and tossed it to the ground. Rage boiled through his blood as he stalked up the stairs. He returned a moment later, small satchel in hand. “That creature is not mine nor shall I care for it,” he spat, and picked the crumpled scroll up from the floor. Severus stuffed the parchment into the satchel and swung it over his shoulder.



“But you’ve signed the papers!” Kingsley protested as Severus walked out his front door. “Where are you going?”



“To find Hermione bloody Granger!” he spat and disapparated with a pop.