Broken
folder
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Snape/Hermione
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
1
Views:
1,338
Reviews:
4
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Snape/Hermione
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
1
Views:
1,338
Reviews:
4
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.
Broken
A/N: I can claim no credit for inventing these characters. J.K. Rowling is the Goddess of the Harry Potter Universe and I am only playing with her toys.
This is my first attempt at fanfic. Reviews are most welcome, as is constructive criticism. Flames will be used to make s’mores. This idea was inspired by the Seether song “Broken” – and the title of this story was shamelessly stolen from the same. This story will be a Severus Snape / Hermione Granger romance with a twist of Harry Potter thrown in. Expect some Severus / Hermione interaction in the next chapter.
Prologue
Harry Potter ran his hand through his shaggy black hair, making it look even more unkempt than usual. He started digging through the walnut chest once more; perhaps this time he would actually find something that would aid him in the search for Hermione. His Hermione.
He could still recall, with crystal clarity, the moment she came to him.
Hermione stood before him, her hair in wild disarray, tear tracks obvious on her stricken face.
He could feel his heart clench painfully in memory.
He threw his arms around her and held her as tightly as he could, trying to be mindful of the sharp pain that accompanied each inhalation. His heart soared as the realization sank in; he was free now. With Voldemort’s ashes blowing away in the wind of the Scottish Highlands, nothing could keep him from his heart’s desires. He was shocked out of his reverie by Hermione’s broken sobs.
“He didn’t… want me… want us…” She hiccoughed and rubbed the back of her hand roughly across her eyes.
Harry drew her back from his embrace, held her at arms length to see what was causing her such distress. “What?” He asked sharply, shock warring with anger on his features.
She shuddered once more and too a deep breath, trying to regain her equanimity. “Oh, Harry,” she started, her lip quivering, “I love him. And… he… he… he…” She paused, her heart unable to put the hurtful words out in the open, to make the unbearable truth permanent.
He stared into her pain filled brown eyes, trying to make sense of his world crumbling down around him, just as he was finally free to claim it. “Who? Who did this to you, Hermione?” He choked out. He tried to keep the anguish out of his voice, hoping that it could be blamed on the physical pain of his battle injuries, rather than the pain of his heart breaking.
She pulled away from his then, wrapping her arms around herself, as if to ward off a chill. “Severus. He doesn’t want us.” She wailed mournfully.
His heart skipped a beat or two as his brain struggled to make sense of her declaration. His head started to spin, the colors and the smells of the battlefield disappearing in the red haze of his mind.
“Snape?! Traitor!” He roared; clenching his fists as white spots danced before his eyes. It felt as thought his head was imploding, seeing only the night in the tower. When he couldn’t stand to see it anymore he opened his eyes and found only the dead on the battleground. He sank to his knees, sobbing out the pain of his lost love, the death of his best friend, the lives he failed to save, and pleading desperately with every deity to have another opportunity to do it again, the right way.
“Enough.” He cried, dragging his hand across his face roughly, clearing the ghosts of the past from his thoughts. ‘I let her run away from me once, and now I must make that up to her. I must find her, and let her know how I feel. I can keep her safe and protect her. I will make her realize that it doesn’t matter if that greasy git doesn’t want her. He doesn’t deserve her; she was made for me.’
Harry nodded to himself, and began humming under his breath; things would finally work out now. Exactly as they were meant to. He reached the bottom of the wooden chest and spotted a glossy photo. He pulled it up carefully, taking time to savor each detail of the photo. Hermione stood with an older woman near the cemetery where her parents were buried. Hermione was resplendent in a bronze sun dress, her small stomach stretching to a medium bump under her hands. Her hair was brushed up, with a few golden brown ringlets framing her glowing face. She wasn’t smiling, but she looked like she was content with the world, that is until Harry looked at her eyes – they were filled with pain and despair. His heart thudded in his chest painfully. ‘Oh. My poor, sweet Hermione.’
To be continued…
This is my first attempt at fanfic. Reviews are most welcome, as is constructive criticism. Flames will be used to make s’mores. This idea was inspired by the Seether song “Broken” – and the title of this story was shamelessly stolen from the same. This story will be a Severus Snape / Hermione Granger romance with a twist of Harry Potter thrown in. Expect some Severus / Hermione interaction in the next chapter.
Prologue
Harry Potter ran his hand through his shaggy black hair, making it look even more unkempt than usual. He started digging through the walnut chest once more; perhaps this time he would actually find something that would aid him in the search for Hermione. His Hermione.
He could still recall, with crystal clarity, the moment she came to him.
Hermione stood before him, her hair in wild disarray, tear tracks obvious on her stricken face.
He could feel his heart clench painfully in memory.
He threw his arms around her and held her as tightly as he could, trying to be mindful of the sharp pain that accompanied each inhalation. His heart soared as the realization sank in; he was free now. With Voldemort’s ashes blowing away in the wind of the Scottish Highlands, nothing could keep him from his heart’s desires. He was shocked out of his reverie by Hermione’s broken sobs.
“He didn’t… want me… want us…” She hiccoughed and rubbed the back of her hand roughly across her eyes.
Harry drew her back from his embrace, held her at arms length to see what was causing her such distress. “What?” He asked sharply, shock warring with anger on his features.
She shuddered once more and too a deep breath, trying to regain her equanimity. “Oh, Harry,” she started, her lip quivering, “I love him. And… he… he… he…” She paused, her heart unable to put the hurtful words out in the open, to make the unbearable truth permanent.
He stared into her pain filled brown eyes, trying to make sense of his world crumbling down around him, just as he was finally free to claim it. “Who? Who did this to you, Hermione?” He choked out. He tried to keep the anguish out of his voice, hoping that it could be blamed on the physical pain of his battle injuries, rather than the pain of his heart breaking.
She pulled away from his then, wrapping her arms around herself, as if to ward off a chill. “Severus. He doesn’t want us.” She wailed mournfully.
His heart skipped a beat or two as his brain struggled to make sense of her declaration. His head started to spin, the colors and the smells of the battlefield disappearing in the red haze of his mind.
“Snape?! Traitor!” He roared; clenching his fists as white spots danced before his eyes. It felt as thought his head was imploding, seeing only the night in the tower. When he couldn’t stand to see it anymore he opened his eyes and found only the dead on the battleground. He sank to his knees, sobbing out the pain of his lost love, the death of his best friend, the lives he failed to save, and pleading desperately with every deity to have another opportunity to do it again, the right way.
“Enough.” He cried, dragging his hand across his face roughly, clearing the ghosts of the past from his thoughts. ‘I let her run away from me once, and now I must make that up to her. I must find her, and let her know how I feel. I can keep her safe and protect her. I will make her realize that it doesn’t matter if that greasy git doesn’t want her. He doesn’t deserve her; she was made for me.’
Harry nodded to himself, and began humming under his breath; things would finally work out now. Exactly as they were meant to. He reached the bottom of the wooden chest and spotted a glossy photo. He pulled it up carefully, taking time to savor each detail of the photo. Hermione stood with an older woman near the cemetery where her parents were buried. Hermione was resplendent in a bronze sun dress, her small stomach stretching to a medium bump under her hands. Her hair was brushed up, with a few golden brown ringlets framing her glowing face. She wasn’t smiling, but she looked like she was content with the world, that is until Harry looked at her eyes – they were filled with pain and despair. His heart thudded in his chest painfully. ‘Oh. My poor, sweet Hermione.’
To be continued…