Thanks That Was Fun Chapter 2

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Severus Snape felt himself waking, but hesitated to open his eyes yet. He reached an arm out and it met with an expanse of rough empty bedding. He frowned confused for a moment before he remembered.

 

Hermione had left him. And he had burned all the nice bedding she had gotten him. His body ached because he had polished off a bottle of brandy last night by himself. He cracked open an eye. The slight filtered light through his bed curtains felt like small spears boring themselves into his skull. He winced.

 

Severus heard a small scuttling in his room and he called out.

 

Kala?” he groaned.

 

“Yes, Master?” said a squeaky, tentative voice.

 

“There is a purple flask in the right bottom drawer of the desk in my study,” said Snape slowly. “Please bring it to me.”

 

“Yes, Master!” said the house elf cheerfully before running off.

 

Severus felt his unshaven cheek catch in the uneven fibers of his pillowcase. He groaned in the dark.

 

“I have the bottle, Master,” said an enthusiastic squeaky voice on the other side of the curtain.

 

“Thank you, Kala,” said Snape as he reached through a parting in the curtains to retrieve it from her. He unscrewed the top of the flask and brought it to his lips. The potion was bitter, but almost immediately his headache began to subside.

 

He pulled back his bed curtains and swung his feet onto the floor. A wave of nausea hit him momentarily, but ebbed as the potion kicked in.

 

Snape raised his head and his eyes darted around the room. Her hairbrush was gone. So was her favorite sweater. The one she always threw on the trunk on the end of the bed instead of hanging up. His eyes moved faster, searching for some sign that she really had been there, but he couldn’t find anything.

 

He stood up and looked on his dresser. Even her nail clippers were gone. He opened her drawers, but found his clothing in them, as if she didn’t even have the decency to leave behind the space she had occupied.

 

Snape reached up to fidget with the chain around his neck, but didn’t find it. Then he remembered he threw it in the fire yesterday. Maybe it didn’t melt. It still could be out there in the ashes.

 

He’d never let her see him going through the remnants of the bonfire trying to find it, and he didn’t feel like asking a house elf to go and get it. He’d have to go look for it tonight after the neighbors went to bed.

 

Snape looked out his bedroom window and saw Ginny Weasley walking out to her stone shed. Her red hair lay in a braid down her back, her purple flannel shirt was tucked neatly into her jeans. After she entered light green smoke began rising out of a small smokestack poking out of one wall. She’d be out there several hours forging and shaping the magic infused metals she kept on hand to make magical trinkets for wealthy wizarding women.

 

He watched Ron hop on his broom and head off for the Ministry. He would be home for lunch in a few hours, but until then Hermione would be in the house alone.

 

Snape wondered what she was doing. Was she sleeping in? Did she even sleep last night? He should have made her a potion. He shook that thought from his head. One woman was not going to reduce him to a level of…missing her terribly.

 

He took a deep breath and tore himself away from the window. He would have to learn how to adapt.

 

Snape reached for a dark grey robe and belted it tightly around his waist. He padded barefoot down to the kitchens for breakfast.

 

He was halfway through his breakfast when the mail arrived. He stopped mid-bite when he saw a peach colored scroll. The return address was from an attorney in Hogsmede. He undid the blue ribbon around it and read it with shaking hands.

 

Mr. Severus Snape,

On the request of Mrs. Hermione Granger Snape a formal request for legal separation has been filed at the Ministry of Magic. Your compliance with wizarding laws regarding this matter would be in your best interest.

 

~Phyllis Lyons

Department of Records

 

‘Don’t stalk her or threaten her,’ is what you mean, Snape thought bitterly. How am I not supposed to look at her when she’s next door. He scanned the page again.

 

She had filed for separation, not divorce. A bit of the weight on Snapes shoulders seemed to shift. He still had a chance.