A/N: yeah this is a necessary filler… I find it quiet entertaining actually, but I really did need it so the next chapter made sense. Kind of short though huh?

Song To Be Played: Me and My Girl by: Theory of a DeadMan

KNOCK KNOCK KNCOK!

Someone was at the door.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK!

And they really wanted to come in.

But Harry didn't partially care. His wife was late to dinner, again, and it had put him in a right fowl mood. Come tomorrow he will probably forget his anger with her as he usually did, but at the moment he was clinging to it fiercely. It felt right to be angry with her. It felt good. And damn, it was doing things for his memory, because Harry could suddenly remember many other days when his 'loving' wife was late coming home or did not come home at all. Meals gone cold and nights of an empty bed suddenly floated to the surface of his thoughts. However it was not helping that he was currently seated at the table of the latest ruined meal. It mocking in its presence, but he wanted to be damn sure he was here when she came waltzing in. So he stayed in the house, in kitchen…In the house.

He hated the house. Grimmauld Place held too many memories, too many ghosts for him to enjoy it. But Ginny had insisted on living there, it was a manor of sorts after all. But even with all the frilly pillows and gold lamps Ginny had insisted on filling it with, it wasn't home. He didn't like it. He didn't want any of it.

Although she did fill it with whiskey too, so maybe he shouldn't be too mad. Harry glanced at the table again cold food and melted candles in all their glory. He incinerated everything but the table itself.

Harry was very angry indeed.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK!

Sigh…

But Harry did not want to take his anger out on whoever was on the other side of that door. He wanted to take it out on his wife. He wanted to yell and throw things and interrogate and get some bloody answers! But what he did not want to do was deal with whoever was on the other side of that door. But more importantly than that, he was drunk off his arse and didn't want to bother staggering to the door.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK!

Persistent bastards.

Harry sluggishly made his way to the door, nursing his almost empty glass of fire whiskey and making a mental note to get some more on his trip back from telling the prat at the door to sod off.

"Hello, Mr. Potter." A dark hiss floated to his ears.

Damn. It was Snape. Even he could not tell Snape to sod off… to his face. Especially when he was drunk and couldn't retrieve his wand in the time it would take the dungeon bat to remove his balls and transfigure them into a new pair of earrings for Ginny.

"What ya be wantin' Snape." Alright maybe he didn't need the refill.

"Is Miss Weasley in at the moment?"

"Nope." He didn't bother to try and correct him on the whole Ginny being a Potter now thing. She did that enough for the both of them and frankly, at the moment he wasn't exactly proud to be a husband.

Apparently, that was the password though, because as soon as the words were out of his mouth the bat had moved swiftly from the door to the kitchen and started to open cabinets and draws and such, muttering to him the entire time. He would pull out a spice here or there, an herb from this self, an essence of whatever from that. Had a right nice little stock pile going too.

"Plan on making yer'self a beauty cream with that batty?" Snape slowly turned his gaze on him and assessed the situation as quickly as possible. "Cause I'm not so sure even magic can help that mug"

"You're drunk."

"Ay, but I'm pretty."

There was a silence after that. And Snape began the process of opening cabinets once again, but this time with more fever. He seemed to find what he was looking for in time and handed a bottle to Harry, who squinted at the bottle for a good long moment before refusing. He was perfectly happy to stay intoxicated thank you very much and he told old batty so.

"Potter if you do not take that potion right this instant and sober the fuck up, I will personally be here to make sure you have the worse hangover of your life without reprieve. Do you understand?"

Harry was still kind of in shock over his former professor using the word fuck… but he drank it anyway.

The result was instantaneous. Harry straightened his posture and narrowed his eyes. "What are you doing here?" he hissed.

Nodding in satisfaction Severus whipped his dark hair around as he turned back to the pile of ingredients he had amassed on the counter top and gestured for Harry to take a seat.

Harry refused. "What is this all about Snape?"

"Do you have any particular habits that are so predictable that they reach the point of certainty? " Severus questioned instead. "Who prepares your food? Your drinks? Are there substances that you consume that your wife does not?"

"What the bloody FUCK, you intrusive bastard, are you playing at?"

Severus let out a controlled sigh, but his patience was wearing thin and his anger barely contained and he was simply ready to be done the whole bloody thing. "I am trying," he gritted out between his teeth as glared and sneered at the boy who lived, "to give you the benefit of the doubt and understand that you are not only you father's son and that there is another possibility as to why you have driven an extraordinary young woman to the point of no return. I am trying, very, very hard to not kill you where you stand. So please a little assistance would be nice."

Harry paled at the thoughts that were swirling through his head. Is that why Ginny hadn't come home? Had she thought h had done something? Was that Skeeter bitch writing nonsense again? Before he could stop himself, his mouth had runaway on him and he began to voice those thoughts.

"What's wrong? Is it Ginny? Is she hurt? In pain? Wher—SHUT UP!" Snape had had enough of his useless drivel.

"I was not speaking of the Weasley girl. I was speaking of Miss Granger." At Harry's confused stare he carried on, "Have you no comprehension of what you have done? No? Sit and you shall see."

Harry sat at the table in the home that was never really his home and stare into his professor's eyes. And in them he saw.

He saw himself destroy his only real home.

Hermione.


A/N: So should I bother to keep going or do you guys think it is time to call it quits and focus on something else?