The Wait

A/N: Here is the extended version of my drabble. I added this as a new story, and gave it a different name. I didn't think you guys would want to read this. I am warning you, however, this is a little darker than I usually write. It is along the lines of Absence. But I am writing this note before I actually attempt to pen the story, so I don't know just how dark this is going to get. Reviews are appreciated, as is the fact that you are reading this story. Challenge rules still apply to this longer work. (can't use the words, “Harry”, snow, eyelashes, or pie. Must use poison, ring, glove, dart, and glee. The words that can be used can be used as any part of speech, in any tense, and can be made plural if necessary.) It is much more difficult to not use `Harry' in a longer work, just in case you were wondering.

Oh, yes. I have taken to writing in a ship that is not supported by portkey. If you would like links to my other works, and you want to know what the ship is … I won't mention it here for fear of being hexed … then link to my LJ and seek out the links. Feel free to leave comments there, too if you wish. You can find my LJ at : www.livejournal.com/users/sapphiretragedy. Note, the other stories I have penned are not for young, innocent eyes and minds.

Phew, this thing has been so long in the works. The drabble just poured out of me, but this one - shot really made me work. And to those of you who are waiting for updates of my other stories, Just the Four of Us and Charm Bracelet, they are coming. I just haven't been in a funny mood lately. Sorry for the long author's note, I just keep adding stuff to it.

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Title:The Waiting Game

Author:Diggingupophelia/Sapphiretragedy

Ship: H/Hr

Distribution: Portkey and LJ

Rating: R

Warnings: Angst, Character Death

Genre: Angst and Romance

Length: One-Shot

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The words fall upon me and burned like poison. I can't understand what Albus is saying to me. I can't force the words to make sense. They are just sounds that dance in the air and occasionally hit my eardrum to create vibrations. There was something about my beloved and the word dead and then something about a wand or a ward; I really can't be sure.

“Would you like some tea?” asks Albus.

I shake my head. Tea? Tea won't bring him back into this office. Tea won't make me feel better. No. I don't want tea. I want him back.

“Lemon drop, then?” asks Albus. This time his tone is warm and cheery.

I shake my head. But, I want to stand up and smack the twinkle out of his eye. Lemon drops? Lemon drops are not going to bring him back. And I don't need to hear a cheery voice in the middle of my somber depression. No. Albus has no idea what I am feeling. No one came into this office to tell him that the love of his life was not coming back to Hogwarts. No one told me that this mission would probably be his last. For Merlin's sake! He defeated Voldemort and now the likes of a washed up Death Eater such as Lucius Malfoy got the best of him: My Beloved!

Upon hearing that dreaded `d' word, it takes all of my strength to keep myself seated in my comfortable chair in front of the fire. I want nothing more than to dart off into the depths of the Dark Forest and bring him home with me. Dead or alive, I want him home.

I see Severus come into the office. Severus. I can call him that now. He saved my life the day Voldemort lost his. He kept me from jumping in front of the curse I would never survive. I wanted to jump in front of that curse to save my lover. However, my lover's heart could stand the curse; the loss of me would have meant his certain death. So, in saving me Severus saved the one he despised. And now he has come to save me again.

“Mrs. Potter, I have just heard…,” Severus begins to speak.

I hold up my hand to stem the flow of words from his lips. Now is not the time for condolences or pity. “Don't say it, Severus, there was nothing anyone could do. You know how he was. Lucius was the last one, and he was determined to bring them all in and see them punished.”

Severus nods his head and is silent. Maybe, he finally understands what I need. I don't need to hear any words of comfort, or warm tea, or sodding lemon drops. I look away from Severus and down at my hands. I peel off the purple dragon hide gloves that protect my hands - he gave them to me yesterday, just because he could, he said - and look down at my hands. My gaze focuses on the plain white gold band on the fourth finger of my left hand. It was supposed to symbolize our eternal love for each other. Love may be forever, but life is not.

“Mrs. Potter?”

I look up and see Severus standing in front of me. I just now realize he isn't calling me by my first name. He is offering me something. A potion, I'm sure. “I can't have that if it's Dreamless Sleep.” I say in my old matter of fact tone. “And, my name is, Hermione. Mrs. Potter died all those years ago to protect her son.,” I say in a reflective tone. All my thoughts are on death at the moment.

“Take the potion, Hermione,” he commands in the gentle tone that leaves no room for interpretation.

I give him a look to tell him to leave me alone with my thoughts, for the time being. He is having none of it. He stands there holding the potion out to me with a look that dares me to defy him for a second time. For a moment he is my horrid Potions Master again and I am an annoying know-it-all who desires nothing more than to test his limits. His glare is unwavering. He will not allow me to drop his gaze. His eyes are issuing commands I cannot obey. My hand falls to my abdomen. He lowers the vial.

“How far along are you, Hermione?” he asks.

“I'm not sure. I only realized a couple of days ago.” It is a lie. I know I am far enough along that the potion won't hurt the life growing inside of me, but I don't want to feel numb. I want to dream. At least in my dreams I have a chance of seeing him again.

Severus finally puts the vial back in his frock coat pocket, then goes to join Albus for tea. The draught was the only thing he offered me. For that I am grateful. I don't want attention now. I only want to be alone. Alone. Without him, I am alone. I will have to live our life, alone. The realization crashes into me like a wild hippogriff. A fresh wave of tears make their way to the surface. I hear the gargoyle slide open, followed by the rush of footsteps. It is someone I know well.

“Hermione,” another hushed voice calls to me. “You look horrid.” I scoff through my sobs. That is exactly what I needed to hear at this moment in my life. Leave it to Ron to know what to say in any situation.

Ron. He was supposed to be with my other half. He was supposed to advise him, talk him out of the dangerous situations he always got himself into. Anger welled up inside of me. My legs carried me over to Ron, before I knew it, my wand is aimed at his throat. “Why are you here?” I ask, without giving him time to respond. “You are supposed to be lying dead next to him, NO, instead of him.”

Ron's eyes fill with tears. I don't care. Ron moves his lips to say something to me, but I jab my wand into his neck harder. He stops trying to talk and puts his arms around me. I push him away. “Leave,” I scream at him as I wave my wand. I know I am capable of using Unforgivables at this point, and I know I can't stop myself right now. Ron doesn't recognize this side of me. I can see the fear in his eyes as he advances on me again, trying to pull me into some sort of embrace. His eyes are apologizing to me, but I don't care. It is all Ron's fault! I raise my wand the beginnings of a curse on my lips and in my heart. Without expectation, my wind flies from my hand into Severus' waiting palm. He then ushers Ron from the office. It was better that way; one life has already been lost tonight. As the anger subsides, my sadness returns.

I find my way back to my seat in front of the fire and fix my gaze on the entrance to the office. I don't want any more surprises. I've had enough of them tonight. I hear the soft clink of china teacups hitting saucers, the crackling of the fire, and the squeak of a chair moving against hard wood floor, and then soft footsteps. The footsteps are headed toward me. I force myself to look down, as I fidget with my ring.

“Drink this,” comes the command from Severus. “It is just tea,” he assures me. I recognize that tone. It can't be trusted.

I accept the teacup perched on its dainty saucer and hold it close to my lap. I don't drink it though. I know his tricks. He has put a sleeping draught, one that is safe for the baby, in the tea. He fooled me like that before they found the one who was lost tonight, after he defeated Voldemort. I refused to sleep when I was taken to the Hospital Wing. He offered me conversation to distract me and slipped me the potion. He won't fool me tonight.

“What happened?” I ask, now that my thoughts are in order.

“Drink. The Tea.” is his only reply. His voice is stiff and void of any compassion. I am so thankful he is not coddling me.

I stare at him as I bring the cup to my lips. I do not drink, merely pretend, this satisfies him enough to begin to speak.

“We aren't sure. All we found was his wand. It was outside of the Apparation point in Hogsmeade. We don't even know if he made it to where he was going or if he vanished after he returned. All we know is, is that we cannot contact him via Legilimency.”

“Maybe, he is shutting you out. He never did like you poking around in his head!” I am beginning to feel a bit odd. That man has fooled me again! I realize I didn't need to drink the potion for it to work. I can't fight the potion as it is working. Severus recognizes this, and does not hesitate in responding to my last comment.

“Hermione, he is dead.”

Those four words could have stopped my heart if I didn't have another life to think of. He said them so calmly and void of any and all emotion. It makes me wonder how many times he had told someone this sort of news before today. I can feel a stinging sensation give way to a burning sensation in my chest. The room starts to spin as it grows dark. I hear the clink of china crashing to the floor, the rush of footsteps trying to make their way to me before I hit the floor, a gasp, and then … nothing …

***

When I finally come to, I am rather confused. It was much darker than when I entered the Headmaster's office, and someone had transfigured the chair I was sitting in, into a bed. I sit up, but the room starts to spin. I fall back into the pillow and close my eyes; that does noting to alleviate the spinning. I make some kind of noise, and hear the sound of quickened footsteps making their way to my side. They are very familiar footsteps. My heart leapt with glee at the familiar sound.

“You look like hell,” says a familiar voice in a teasing manner.

This time I smile. I know that voice. I dare not hope the voice is real. I am content knowing it is my imagination or a dream. I hear more footsteps. There are other people in the room, therefore, I make no attempt to respond to that voice. If people hear me start talking to myself … well, that was something I was not willing to contemplate at this moment. I will take whatever small doses of comfort I can get, for the time being.

The spinning finally slows, a considerable amount of time later. I slowly open my eyes and allow myself to sit up, ever so slowly. I don't want to fall back into the bed. The first thing I do is look down at my hands and to the ring; the only tangible link to him left in this world. I am lost in my thoughts, when a nagging voice, in the back of my mind, tells me to look up.

I see a familiar pair of black leather boots. They used to be shiny, but now they were caked in blood and mud. As I scan his legs, I notice fresh cuts peering out from behind tears in the fine fabric of the trousers; which are also covered in mud. My eyes make it to the golden clasp of the green cloak I bought him for his birthday before I allowed myself to smile: those were his initials, our shared initials! It is him! It is really him.

I force myself to look into his eyes, his emerald eyes, before I speak. “You're alive!” I jump up from my seat and run to him.

He pulls me into a tight embrace and lets my body melt into his as I run my hands through is sweaty and still unruly black hair. He whispers in my ear so no one else can hear. “Yes. I'm alive!” He pauses to kiss me on the cheek. “I could never leave you. Never. No matter what I will always come back.” Then he steps away and takes my left hand in his. He kisses the ring on my finger before he hands me my gloves.

His kiss was the antidote to the poison that was thrown at me earlier in the evening. After he breaks the kiss, I lower my hands, unconsciously, to my abdomen. It was my guarded secret, and now I am ready to share it with him. Some secrets just aren't worth keeping.

He notices the drop of my hand and the glimmer in my eye. His eyes tell me it was his heart's turn to gleefully leap into his throat. “Are you sure?” He does not dare hope; we had so many failures in the past. I nod and smile. “If I had known, I never … why didn't you tell me?”

“I was saving it for your birthday,” I reply as the tears were forming in my eyes. I don't want him to leave. I don't want to lose him because of my own stupidity. Of all of the brilliant ideas… but he interrupts my thoughts. He kisses me again.

“Sorry I ruined your plans.” He pulls me into a tight embrace. I am afraid to let go. I am afraid that if I let go, he will vanish and I will be alone again.

He turned to Albus, Ron, and Severus, a wide grin on his face. “Did you hear that? I am going to be a father!” As he says this, he pulls me into a tight embrace. He quickly loosens his grip, he is afraid he will hurt me, or the baby. I know that there will be no more hunting for rogue Death Eaters. He will leave that task to others.

Severus forces a smile. Ron stays away; I see the uncertainty in his eyes. Albus offers us lemon drops. This time I take one; it is after all a time to celebrate.

I am bombarded with congratulatory remarks, and I don't really hear one of them. My happiness is overpowering all of my other senses. The only words I hear come from his lips as he leads me past the gargoyle and back to our suite of rooms, “I love you, Hermione.” I smile. Maybe now, we'll get to live happily ever after.

~Fin~

And here is the original drabble that inspired the piece you just read, in case you missed it. I took off the last sentence, since it didn't really fit.

Return to Me.

The words fell upon me and burned like poison. I couldn't understand what Dumbledore was saying to me. I couldn't force the works to make sense. There was something about my beloved and the word 'dead' and then something about a wand or a ward; I really couldn't be sure. After I heard the dreaded 'd' word my brain shut down. I wanted to dart off into the woods and search for him, but I used all the self restraint I could muster to keep my arse planted in the chair in front of the fire.

I looked to my hands and pulled off my purple dragon hide gloves - he gave them to me yesterday, just because he could - and studied the ring on my finger. A plain white gold band meant to symbolize our immortal love; and now he was dead.

I don't know how long I stared at that simple gold band thinking about him before I heard him.

“Hermione, who died?” he said in a concerned tone.

I wanted to answer, “You.” But I knew it was my mind playing tricks on me and it wouldn't do to have me start talking to myself in the presence of others. So I ignored the voice. Well, I tried to ignore the voice, something told me to look up. So I did.

I saw a familiar pair of black leather boots. They used to be shiny, but now they were caked in blood and mud. As I scanned his legs, I noticed fresh cuts peering out from behind tears in the fine fabric of the trousers; which were also covered in mud. My eyes made it to the golden clasp of the green cloak I bought him for his birthday before I allowed my heart to leap with glee: those were his initials, our shared initials! It was him, it was really him.

I forced myself to look into his eyes, his emerald eyes, before I spoke, “You're alive!” I jumped up from my seat and ran to him. He pulled me into a tight embrace and let my body melt into his as I ran my hands through is sweaty and still unruly black hair. He whispered in my ear so no one else could hear, “Yes. I'm alive!” He paused to kiss me on the cheek, “I could never leave you. Never. No matter what I will always come back.” Then he stepped away and took my left hand in his.

He kissed the ring on my finger before he handed me my gloves. His kiss was the antidote to the poison that was thrown at me earlier in the evening.

A/N: (Yes, another one.) Please let me know what you think of this. Reviews inspire my Muse, and the more inspiration the Muse gets, the faster I can write.

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