Holding you.

A/N: I thank again MaddyTitone. Without her this story would have never seen the light. Now I must thank my kind beta blue artemis for taking over and making sure any left horrors (better known as errors) didn't show up. Any persisting 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 4

"I came from a funeral. My sister's funeral," he said.

"Bullshit," and other expletives were spat with different degrees of rage and hostility.

Severus' knuckles were getting whiter by the second. "My Muggle half-sister," he continued, regardless of the stares and sotto voce comments about the "tripe" he was making up. He sipped tea to warm his blood before he gave up all he had in this life. "My father hired the newest prostitute available at the whorehouse months before I was conceived." The glares he received clearly told him that 'like father, like son' was a shared sentiment.

"She gave him a child...a girl. Her mother named her Vivienne." He cleared his throat, making an effort to tell something so private and painful as quickly and concisely as he could. "The child of a prostitute stays with her mother, if it manages to survive its delivery, that is. The girls became prostitutes, and the boys burglars or mine workers. Vivienne didn't have a choice in her upbringing and became a prostitute just like her mother." Severus ogled the child that rested on the conjured cot at his left, swallowing the lump on his throat. "Sandra, the woman you saw me with, Hermione... she is a witch. A harlot yes, but a witch. I believe she somehow learned my father's last name and related him with me from my days as Death Eater. Snape, after all, is not a widespread name." Snape then muttered something intelligible under his breath.

"Speak louder, Mr. Snape, we can't hear you," urged Bill, flashing dangerous glances toward him.

"I said we Snapes were murdered almost to extinction for being Jews," he retorted through clenched teeth. The murmurs died immediately.

"Don't play your sympathies with us, Mr. Snape. Keep the drama to a minimum, if you please," responded Percy, ever the git.

"I am NOT here digging out my family's past to turn it into a circus show for you to mock it, you insolent prat!" Severus snapped at the redhead. Nobody reacted to his insult. Percy may have come to terms with his family, but he was still the same pompous Ministry poser.

"My father was a miller, a Jewish miller who couldn't stand the fact he had married a witch. He punished and hurt my mother in all possible ways. Physically, verbally, emotionally. It was only by luck that he fathered one child besides me, otherwise my mother would have died from heartbreak in a sea of black haired, harlots' children," Severus hurried to explain before there were more interruptions.

My mother saw Vivienne a Saturday near the synagogue where my father used to go. She had the skin, nose, eyes, hair... every fucking Snape trait." He waved his hand around his face to emphasize his words.

Hermione felt that it was sad she had learned about it this way, him telling her this in front of so many. She had tried innumerable times to make him talk about his family, but he always fought to keep it to himself. He was baring his soul to her, and she could tell each word was true, and each word was hurting him. More so at telling her this in front of so many.

"I found my mother in the garden. She... she had bled to death. I was only ten when she... when she was gone. I found out in her old diary why, a few days after meeting Vivienne. I had no choice but to read that blasted diary, Hermione. Too much pain within those miserable pages... nothing I wanted to share with anyone, much less with you, the only good thing in my life" His strangled voice was almost foreign to him. "I would never do that to you, Hermione... ever." He was now looking at her, tears rolling freely down his pale cheeks, his eyes open to her and anybody else's scrutiny. He had nothing to hide; it all was there, displayed before her to see, his regret for keeping this to himself, and his sorrow for causing her such a pain. Fuck! If he could, he would encourage her to use Legillimency on him and allow her to see every damned piece of memory he had hidden in the back of his mind for so long, were he able to remain composed enough and not break down as he was sure he would. After a long minute he continued; he had to tell them – tell her ... all he had come to tell, and then leave if she decided he was not worthy of her trust and love anymore.

"Sandra contacted me when Vivienne was in labor eight years ago. Helen was so small and sick she would have never survived had I not taken care of them both. You thought I was cheating on you and for that I slept on the couch for two months. I couldn't tell you what I was doing then. Vivienne was a reminder of my mother's... she was a past I didn't want to talk about." His voice was barely above a whisper.

"Vivienne died yesterday ... of cancer, and I promised her a long time ago that I would care for her child if something ever happened to her. Helen, she is brilliant and a magical child besides. I cannot... I will not let her rot in that blasted whorehouse. I'm not my father." Severus was twisting his traveling cloak on his fists.

Hermione had been crying silently since finding out how his mother had died. Now she understood his bitterness, his resentment and insecurities; how much he had despised himself and had cursed his father. Her heart went out to her husband for disclosing such a tragic childhood. She could see in his eyes his longing for her, for a family, and his fierce resolution to right all the wrong his father had done.

"I'm sorry, Hermione. I'm sorry I broke your heart... I'm sorry I didn't tell you before," Severus said to her, placing all he felt for her into his apology, praying to any existing deity she would forgive him.

Harry stood and grabbed her wrist before she could launch herself to her husband's arms.

"How do we know this is not a sham, that you are not mourning your mistress, and that this child is not yours?" As much as it pained Harry to say these things he knew would hurt Hermione, he had to ask. He had to know Snape was not trying to win his friend back, letting her believe something else and find out later on that he had another mistress and other children, causing her to, gods forbid, kill herself like Eileen Snape had out of grief.

"Please, Harry, let me go to him," Hermione pleaded desperately.

"How?" demanded Harry again, tightening his grip on Hermione as she struggled with him.

"Unhand my wife this instant, Potter." Severus was up in an instant, ready to hurt his nemesis' son with his bare hands; much had been taken away from him because of a Potter, and Severus Snape was not about to let that happen again.

Wands were straightened toward him at once in the blink of an eye.

"Hell! All I want to know is if you are telling the truth. I don't want to be the one to find my best friend bleeding in the garden. For fuck's sake, just tell us!" yelled Harry.

Severus saw and understood the fear in those green eyes. It was the same fear that had gripped his heart the moment his wife Disapparated, leaving him to wallow in it. Deciding it was better to dispel any residual doubt, he straightened his robes, slowly removing his wand from its sheath and placing its tip over his heart. He solemnly said, "I swear this is the truth. Death be upon me this instant if not." A whirl of magic surged from the floor and spiraled around him, causing his black robes to ripple, only to disappear with a faint glimmer seconds later.

"Drama queen," mumbled Ron, who had secretly harbored the idea of dueling his ex-professor. Everyone present struggled mightily to hide their chuckling at Ron's comment, lifting the tension and changing the mood somewhat.

Harry finally let go Hermione from his vise grip, releasing a breath he didn't know he had been holding all this time.

Finally reunited, Severus and Hermione stood there in the middle of the kitchen, sobbing, kissing, holding each other like there was no tomorrow for them.

A sleepy voice called out to him. "Sevy, where are we? And who are they?"

"We are at the Burrow, pumpkin. And they are friends," Severus replied softly, scooping the child up in one arm and going back to hold his wife tighter with the other, relishing in the shocked expression on everyone's faces at being called this way and actually not scowling or hexing the offender. He was convinced they would never look at him as they used to; and at this point, he really didn't care. The only thing that mattered to him was the world he held in his arms. His family.

Finite...

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Final A/N:

Well, here you have it. You will find some things odd but remember that this was written four years ago.

I thank you all for reading this story, for reviewing, and for liking it enough to include it within your favorites. And I do really hope this last part was of your liking.

Again reviews, comments or just a smiling face is welcomed.

Till later,

SF