AN: Slyther-angst! Severus is sad, Severus is happy, Severus is sad again. Trying out a little social experiment. Tell me if you noticed what it was! :harhar:

The ways of Fate are indeed hard to understand. If there is not some compensation hereafter, then the world is a cruel jest.

Arthur Conan Doyle

Severus Snape slammed his godson into the wall, furious. His eyes were black as pitch, but Draco found the expression in them more discomfiting than the hand curled around his throat, choking off his circulation.

He'd seen his godfather furious too many times to count. Right now, Snape just looked very, very lost.

"She loves you," the boy gasped out. Barely.

With a scowl, Snape dropped him to the floor and stalked away. Rubbing his neck, Draco frowned.

"You're an idiot if you push her away like this!"

Snape's shoulders slumped, and stood stock still. Shite. Draco winced as one of Lucius' loving adages echoed through his mind. Keep your tongue in check, boy. It would have been great advice in this instance, he thought ruefully. If only he hadn't been too stubborn to follow it.

He tensed up as Snape half turned towards him, fully expecting a bout of murderous rage for his rudeness.

Instead, Snape's voice cracked before he left the room. "I know."

Double shite. Which of the Fates were cruel enough to think Draco could fix a man who refused a chance at love?

Her skin was so warm. Soft. Supple. Severus shivered as she brought her hand up to his face. Or maybe he did that. He pressed his lips to her wrist before he realized what a mistake that was.

No, said his mind. She was so close, he could smell her. She was intoxicating. No, I mustn't. His eyes fluttered shut. She deserves better than this, better than me. No.

And then her fingers ghosted over his lips and the touch went straight to his groin. N-ohh...

His eyes flew open and saw her, eyes intent upon his face, lower lip caught between her teeth as her touch played havoc with his already frayed mind. My mind.

My heart, my heart.

He leaned forward, trembling. No, I mustn't. I cannot. I shouldn't. She was millimeters away, her soft breaths growing ragged with his. Her hand threaded itself through his hair.

Gods above, if she doesn't stop I may take her against this wall here and now.

"Yes," tilting her head in question. "Please," she breathed. Two words had him undone and he closed the distance, capturing her lips with his. Yes, was all he could think. Yes, oh yes yes! He bit her lower lip and she opened her mouth to him. The dam broke.

Everything he'd been fighting for the past few minutes (hours days months years) came rushing to the fore. His hands were in her hair, on her back, on her skin, down to grab her ass and she wrapped her legs around him with a little growl. He pushed back and looked at her, torn.

"Hermione please. I won't be able to sto-" His words trailed off into a groan as she bit his neck and sucked. He ground himself into her center, lifting her into the air and pressing her back against the wall of his laboratory. Their laboratory. How long they'd been waiting for this, he didn't know. How could he know anything, when all his blood was in the southern regions of his body?

"I want you, Severus. I want this." He went mad at her words, at the lust (love) in her voice, and kissed her again. Her lips, her neck, the sensitive spot just below her ear, and was rewarded with a moan. She whispered his name. She begged, moaned for him. Which of the Fates were cruel enough to think he could resist?

Where are you?

He stumbled. Bloody buggering fuck. Where was she? He needed her this week to help him prepare the Wolfsbane. He needed her tomorrow to help him mark essays. He needed her in a few hours reorganize the ingredient shelves.

My love. My beautiful darling lioness. Where are you?

Something was hurting and he had a strong suspicion it was him. Merlin's left ball sac, they need to shut off that bloody sad music and find her for him. Didn't they know he needed her?

To brew in the lab. To smile and kiss him. To laugh. He needed her to be alive. For if she wasn't alive, then where did that leave him?

The dungeon floor was more solid than he was, but he was certainly colder.

His let his head rest against the surface and closed his eyes. Hers were behind it. Her face, her lips, her smile.

He closed his mind.


"Bloody hell, smells like a distillery in here."


"Severus. Severus get up."

Draco. Fuck. Go away Draco.


Damn it all to hell, he was more pissed than he thought. How many days had it been?

"It's been three weeks. You didn't even go to the funeral. What are you trying to do, drink yourself to death?"

The smash of the bottle against the wall did nothing to deter his godson's annoying voice. The fact that it hit nowhere near Draco's head may have contributed to that, too. Bloody waste of Ogdens.

At least when he was angry he never missed. I only just got her! I WAS SUPPOSED TO PROTECT HER! he had yelled then, when the reality was fresh enough, when his anger had been the only thing to keep him sane. Now there was a hole in place of it, right in the middle of his chest. He opened his eyes to find a Draco shaped blur looming before him.

He felt something hot and wet streaming down his cheeks and the Draco-shape blurred even further.

"She's gone, Severus. But she wouldn't have wanted you to..." His voice trailed off, at a loss.

Snape turned away. He needed no truth but his own. The air in this room was drowning him, drowning for lack of her scent. It was already fading from the sheets in her room. Their room. He was drowning, falling, fading away with it.

"Hurts, Draco," he said to the wall.

Draco sighed, and stood up shakily. "I know, Severus. I know." The light glinted off a ring, a diamond solitaire amongst the broken shards of a Firewhiskey bottle. Which of the Fates were cruel enough to give a starving man love and take it away so soon?

And there you have it. Trying out sad for a while. Not sure if i should turn this into a full fledged story with plot and all (with a happy ending where Hermione secretly lives of course)