A Kneazle out of its bag.

A/N: Let me thank again my dear beta blue artemis for her magical review and corrections. As usual, any errors are solely mine.

Disclaimer: I don't own it in any form or way, but oh! How I love to mess with it!

Chapter 2: A Kneazle out of its bag.

"How is she doing?" Severus asked the same harlot that had received him some days ago. She smiled openly, showing her crooked teeth that reminded him of the uneven tiles of the alley.

"Not bad, not bad. Come in, boy," said the woman, watching at the window as she usually did when Severus came to her domain. Strange. She could have sworn she saw the ribbon hanging from the window. She shook her head. It would be wiser if she left her rum alone or at least until later on when the temperature dropped to bone-breaking cold. With a sigh, she let the man in. Winter was not as fun as it had been when she was younger.

Some minutes later, Severus left, tightening his thick wool cloak some more. Despite it being noon, the day was as bitter as death. He sneered at his own words and the irony of them. He could feel death oozing steadily, almost lethargically from the place. All he could was to relieve the pain, no "stopper death" this time.

"I must go, Sandra. You know how to contact me," he told the woman, who nodded slowly.

"What 'bout da kitten? Can't keep her," added Sandra as an afterthought.

"I will take her when the time comes, but not now, Sandra. Not now," Severus replied softly to the harlot. His guts were in knots. When the time came, he might lose all he had.

He turned on his heels, cloak billowing despite its weight. He was about to place a gloved hand on the gate when he felt a light tug on his cape. By the strength of the tug, or rather, lack of it, he instantly knew who it was and what it wanted. He turned slowly to see big black eyes set on a pale, tearstained face, watching him imploringly.

She had her long black hair tied with a lavender ribbon trimmed with silver and gold. It was a gift he knew she treasured, since he had given it to her some Christmas ago 'to hold the princess's hair.'

"Don't go, please. Don't go. I promise I will be nice, and quiet, and will do all the chores, and will never fight again, but please don't go! You make mum feel better. You make her laugh. Please stay."

The child couldn't continue with her plea as the sobs racked her small, fragile body. Malnutrition made her look like she was younger than she really was, Severus thought. Eight years were by no means a lot, but when someone lived the kind of life she had, it was a wonder she was still living at all.

He pried her hands from his cloak gently. He crouched to so that they were face to face. "I must go now."

"Please stay!" The tears were flowing, making it harder for Severus to go.

"I must," he said to her, tucking a lanky lock of hair from her face tenderly. Not waiting for a reply to his statement, he stood up and Disapparated right there.

"Helen com' ere. He will come, ya'll see!" Sandra called.

The girl nodded and walked back to where her "aunt" was. Maybe, if she were a better child and didn't fight with Pete that much, he would stay. And she had kicked Pete hard today. It was all his fault for calling her names, and he always knew if she behaved or not. Maybe next time ... next time she would ask him to take her with him.

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"Shushhh," whispered a voice from behind Hermione. The men that were holding her by her arms were glad they had cast a strong Silencing charm before she arrived to meet them. There were no words of comfort for their friend. They had tried before and she had all but begged them to follow Severus as something had been off for some time.

At first Bill thought it was only Snape being his usual discreet self, exactly as the other times when he had businesses he knew Hermione would disapprove. She would never understand that business was simply that, and that Snape was not a fool to deal with someone and let himself be involved in whatever troubles said business could bring. He should know. He had tried to tell Fleur the same thing about his own dealings with the Goblins, but women always worried excessively. Only this time Hermione was right. The bastard had a lot of explaining to do.

George knew intuitively that there was more than met the eyes. Perhaps it was the war and the previous interactions he had with Severus over the years that he knew there must be a reason for what he was seeing. It was undeniably that the child looked a lot like him and that more than anything was hurting Hermione. He was sure there was hell to pay for Snape whatever his motives were to keep such a secret from Hermione. Well, nothing more here to analyze. The Kneazle was out of the bag. He shared a look with his brother and turned on the spot with Hermione still crying on his shoulder.

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There was something in Hermione that wasn't there before. Severus couldn't shake the feeling that it was killing her inside. She was quiet... too quiet. Not that it was rare to see her appear completely absent-minded while she worked on her own theories about the Magical Flow. She was passionate about her work, her life, with him. Still... today she was not there; and it was this emptiness –the same one he had felt in his core before she came to his life that scared him the most. He had never been good with words, especially when he was this scared. Had the time come without him noticing it?

"Love?" he called to her, hoping she didn't notice the quavering in his voice.

She remained silent.

"Hermione?" he tried again, this sitting in the ottoman in front of her.

"Love, am I?" Her raspy voice sounded like she had been crying for quite some time, that much he could tell. He braced himself for the storm that was to come. The time had come indeed.

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"I want to see mum. Please, Aunty?" Helen's voice was somewhat desperate. She could feel it. It was cold... cold inside her chest.

"Go play, darling, she needs to sleep. Old Sev told her he will come see ya all later. Go play!" Sandra urged her. The time was coming, and she only hoped Severus Snape would keep his word, oath or no oath.

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"Yes. My love," Severus whispered to Hermione trying hard not to surrender to fear. He could stand to lose anything... anything but her.

"Talk to me, Hermione," he pleaded, kneeling now in front of her, raising a shaking hand to tuck her unruly curls behind her ear.

"DON'T touch me Severus. Just don't!" she seethed.

"Hermione, please. Tell me, love; what is it?" he begged her. Pride be damned.

"How dare you? How. Dare. You. Severus?" She stared at him while breathing deeply. "What is her name, Severus?" she clenched her jaw in a effort to bite back all the hurtful things she wanted to tell him, things that stormed in her chest.

"Hermione... love, I...? What are you on about now?" Severus asked her, somewhat perplexed. He was trying very hard to not let show how much her mistrust affected him. He never cared about what others thought of him. There was nothing they could say that he haven't already heard. Their insipid imagination and dullness only amused him at best. But to hear her doubt of his loyalty, of his love for her was more that he could stand.

"Then, your other name, Severus. The one you use when you go visit your other family. Or perhaps there is another Mrs. Snape that I'm not aware of." Her voice was so hollow it was making it hard for him to breathe. It was void of emotions, of the love he was so addicted to.

"My other family? Hermione, you are all I have..." He shook his head, praying all deities there were that she could at least give him a chance to explain.

"Do NOT insult my intelligence pretending there is nobody else!" she hissed. "It's humiliating enough see the pity in the eyes of my friends. Humiliating to know they knew how proud I was of you and how I sang to all sundry what a wonderful man you were, how incapable you were of hurting me, Severus Snape," she choked out miserably.

"Listen," he ordered, prying her hands from her ears. "They know nothing! And if they placed you against me, the worse for them!" His own anger rose like molten lava from his soul. "They know NOTHING!" he roared in panic, his face a few inches from hers.

Silence fell between them ominously.

"I know what I saw today. You broke my heart, Severus; and I don't know if you can fix it... if it can be fixed at all." Hermione whispered fiercely. The moment he let her hands go, she Disapparated from him.

"NO!" he roared to the empty space where she had been sitting. The sound reverberated in the windows and through the solitary halls of the house.

A.N.2: Well, it doesn't look nice at all to Severus, but that's how the bunny wanted it written. Keep reading, it only gets better. Oh! Remember to review too, that makes my day better.

SF