Group Therapy

I do not own Harry Potter or any of its characters; J. K. Rowling does. In addition, I do not make any profit from this fanfiction. Huge thank you to my betas Valady and AmyLouise.

Cinderella Man

There's a storm comin' that the weatherman couldn't predict*

Group Therapy

Severus muttered, "Shit," and sagged into his armchair once more.

For a while, he just sat there, trying to understand what had just transpired between Hermione and him. Her sweet taste still lingered on his lips. His body still savoured the feel of her petite, pliant form under his. It felt so utterly perfect, so darn right. He was given a glimpse of happiness, a preview of how it could be. If only it hadn't ended so quickly. If only he hadn't pushed it too far....

"Argghh," growled the wizard in frustration, "What an imprudent fool!"

Severus was so peeved with himself...he honestly couldn't comprehend how the hell he had managed to be so idiotically inconsiderate. Fate had granted him a perfect chance, and he had just ruined it. How could he have let that happen? Did he unreservedly lose his mind? He knew that Hermione was upset and confused. He knew that she needed someone who could provide a friendly ear, sympathy, and comfort. And yet, he chose to behave as a cad of the worst type. Instead of providing all of the above, he shamelessly forced himself on her...practically attacked her. No wonder that the girl ran off on him.

Regrets tortured him mercilessly, and still he couldn't help but think about those minutes when the girl was actually responding to his kiss. He couldn't have been totally wrong in imagining that. There was undeniably a moment during their encounter when Hermione had pressed herself into him; when she had succumbed to his demands. He was certain that he had heard a little mewl of delight from her. And then everything had ended so abruptly. Why?

Baffled and disappointed, Severus spent the rest of Saturday in restless pacing and endlessly castigating himself. By evening, he finally ran out of cusses and insulting epithets for himself and sat down to think. He needed a new plan. He sat and thought silently for a while. Then, tired of silence, he initiated an intense and lengthy, though one-sided, conversation with Black and eventually, by night, a few new paths were identified.

Knowing Hermione, Severus presumed that with the wedding being called off, the witch would choose to return to her studies at St. Mungo's sooner rather than later. He would find her there and explain himself...that was the first plan. Of course, he could try and send her an owl this evening. However, there were a few 'buts' in this second option. First, Severus genuinely wished for an instant tête-à-tête with Hermione on Monday. Moreover, he wasn't at all an expert in writing love letters. Sending a candid note about returning the witch's dress seemed way too dry. Plus, there was always a disturbing possibility that his letter would fall flat. What if the witch won't reply? thought the wizard. Thus, in the light of those 'ifs', he decided upon the St. Mungo's plan.

Once the decision was reached, he only needed to somehow survive through the weekend and hope that Hermione would be in the hospital on Monday. Frankly, it wasn't easy... to survive. The kiss he had shared with the girl renewed all the longing in Severus' heart. He was so painfully in love that his chest physically ached. His dreams became so vivid, his desire for her so unbearable, that he couldn't sleep through the night. What sheer agony it was to wait and have no idea of the outcome. The suspense was killing him.

Next morning, the Sunday Prophet brought an official announcement about the most anticipated wedding of the year being cancelled and a nasty article from Skeeter. Never would Severus have imagined that he would destroy this particular newspaper, but the article was so full of nauseating insinuations that he simply couldn't help himself. Sure enough, Hermione was painted as the guilty party and poor, abandoned Ronald Weasley as the victim. Thank Merlin that the boy refused to make any comments. Molly probably forbade him to do so, Severus assumed. Still, it didn't stop that revolting bug Skeeter from making innuendoes and assumptions, marring Hermione's name.

And so, the Prophet was once again destroyed, and the ire helped Severus to make it through Sunday. He didn't sleep a wink that night. Nerves got the better of him. The wizard really should have been amused by how hopelessly in love he was, if only it wasn't so heart-wrenchingly painful. Alas, when on Monday hopeful Severus arrived at St. Mungo's, he was once again reminded that even "the best laid plans of mice and men go often awry," **, because he didn't find Hermione there. In vain, the wizard perused the hospital's halls. The witch was nowhere to be seen.

After an unproductive day, Severus returned home and immediately sat down to write a letter to the witch. He wasn't going to lose any more time...he ought to get in touch with her, the sooner the better. After countless tries, at last a short note was produced. It read as follows:

Dear Hermione,

PS. If nothing else, I would like to return your dress. It is perfectly dry now.

The wizard wasn't pleased with it, yet it was the best he could manage. With a frown, Severus reread the short missive and sent it. Twenty minutes later, his owl returned without an answer. Disappointed, Severus decided to take Black to the park, just to pass the time. Predictably, fate wasn't in the mood for smiling, and when they returned there was still no answer.

There was still no answer the next morning. Therefore, Tuesday met the wizard with only the Prophet and not a pip from the witch.

Now, frantic and full of depressing apprehension that he was going to lose his witch forever, Severus went to the Ministry of Magic. Though he hated the Ministry, it was the best-known rumour mill in Wizarding London. Unfortunately, after spending three hours in the Ministry, the only crumbs of information that Severus was able to dig up were meagre. First, nobody had seen Miss Granger since the announcement; and secondly, no one had a clue just where she might be. He did manage to find out that the witch hadn't been answering any inquiries. That news took the edge off Severus' dread just a little. It was a bit easier knowing that his was not the only unanswered letter.

So, despite spending half a day at the Ministry, Severus returned home empty-handed. The disgruntled wizard proceeded with even more pacing and cussing. Once again scolding himself for his stupidity, he opened the bottle of the Firewhisky and poured the amber liquid into a glass. Sipping his drink, he desperately tried to think of something else he could do. The sense of urgency that had gripped his heart in the morning only grew more pronounced. He had to find his witch, and he had to find her now!

Even Black seemingly felt the doom that was looming over his owner and tried to help by licking his toes and tearing the hated newspaper apart. When these two acts didn't work, and his wizard was still slumped in the armchair, the pup decided to try a different tactic. He sprinted to a corridor and a minute later returned with one of Severus' trainers in his mouth. He placed a shoe in front of the wizard and barked impatiently...a walk in the park never harmed anybody. Sipping his Firewhisky, Severus melancholically observed Black's efforts. However, when his eyes slid over his blue Adidas, a stray thought suddenly crossed his mind. The wizard instantly sprang up, muttered, "Parkinson," and whirled away from his living room, to Black's gargantuan disappointment.

Twenty minutes later Pansy Parkinson and Severus sat on a bench right across from her boutique. The wizard had just finished describing his situation to her, sans details of course, and now waited for her verdict. He was grateful for the girl's lack of comment, as he already felt extremely awkward asking the young witch for help in matters of the heart. Severus couldn't say exactly what kind of assistance he expected from his former student. He just truly was at his wit's end and was probably grasping at straws.

Now, waiting for Miss Parkinson to react, he began to doubt himself once again. While the witch sat silently, as if she were carefully contemplating something, the wizard grew more uncomfortable by a minute. He wasn't used to opening his heart to anybody, let alone his former student. Once Severus was almost ready to bid a hasty good-bye and return home with another fiasco in his pocket, Pansy finally looked at him and said, "You have to go to Potter."

This suggestion took Severus by surprise, and he repeated in bewilderment, "Potter? What on earth do I need Potter for, Miss Parkinson? Please, explain yourself."

Pansy gave her former teacher a slightly annoyed glance and abruptly stood up.

"All right, Professor, you and I are having lunch." And without explaining anything, Pansy took him by his elbow quite forcefully. It was rather late for lunch, but Severus didn't have a chance to refuse because the next moment the witch caught a cab and steered him into it. After a ten-minute ride, they arrived at a nice-looking Italian restaurant with a sign "Closed. Reopen at five," on the door. When Severus hesitated by the door, Pansy simply nudged him. "Come on, sir, braver."

Upon entering, the wizard paused at the threshold. The cosy room, with about twelve tables, was almost empty, and the few occupants that were there immediately focused their attention on Severus, making him uneasy. A young pianist who was quietly rehearsing a mellow jazzy composition in the room's corner stopped and now was gawking at the tall, dark, and brooding wizard with an opened-mouth fascination. Two waitresses stopped folding napkins and stared at him as well. The poor wizard just stood on the threshold, shifting his feet and feeling exposed to their scrutiny until Pansy rescued him. The witch confidently got hold of Severus' arm and led him to the table in the far end of the room, casually throwing to the pianist as they walked past him, "Do your thing, honey; Professor is very much taken."

That cryptic phrase perplexed Severus, though he didn't have time to ask what the witch meant. A surprise awaited Severus at the table. There sat three of his former students...Draco, impeccably dressed in a Muggle suit; Theo, also dressed in a Muggle white shirt and a tie, with an opened book lying in front of him; and Blaise, who hovered over them both in a white chef's uniform. Evidently, Pansy had brought him to a restaurant where Blaise worked.

"Professor!" The boys noticed him and hurried to greet him. For a moment, the wizard almost forgot about his problems. Ignoring a peculiar prickling in his eyes, Severus shook their hands, asked questions, and listened to their answers, all the while fighting with his ridiculously sentimental reaction. He wasn't going to tear up; he wasn't some soppy old spinster, for Merlin's sake. Thankfully, Pansy cut short their lively news exchange.

"Oh, this is touching, really!" said the impatient witch. "We, however, have a problem to solve. Boys, pay attention! You see, our Professor here is in love with the one and only Hermione Granger."

For a second, there was a complete silence, and then all three Slytherins began to laugh. "Good one, Pans," Draco managed between fits of laughter.

Flustered by Pansy's sudden straightforwardness and humiliated by the young wizards' reactions, Severus barked, "Miss Parkinson, I don't remember giving you permission to make a laughing-stock out of me and my situation!"

With that, he stood up and was about to leave when the laughter ceased as abruptly as it started, and Theo concluded, "I don't think it's a joke, Draco." And three pairs of eyes with an identical puzzled expression concentrated on their former professor.

"Oh, finally...took you long enough," muttered Pansy with exasperation. Then, as she faced Severus, who was still standing, she added, "Sit down, sir. I am sorry that I didn't prepare these three idiots properly." And the witch unceremoniously pulled Severus by his sleeve as he grouchily sat down again.

The three young wizards stared at him quietly. It was Blaise who broke the silence first. "So," he said, clearing his throat, "what is the problem?"

Pansy quickly informed them about Severus' situation, and after a pause, Draco voiced his conclusion. "I think, Professor, you need to go to Potter. He definitely should know where she is."

"Precisely," agreed Theo.

"Yup," added Blaise.

Pansy turned to Severus as triumph shone in her eyes. "Told you, sir. Potter it is."

Severus didn't even have a chance to reply because he suddenly found himself in the middle of a whirlwind of activity. First, he was coerced to write a short meeting request to Potter, which Blaise then sent right from the restaurant. Apparently, he kept an owl hidden somewhere at the back. Fifteen minutes later, he returned with a bright smile and Potter's answer, stating that Harry would see Severus in thirty minutes at 12 Grimmauld Place.

Armed with Potter's agreement to meet, Pansy and Draco immediately forced their former teacher to stand up in order to give him a careful look over. Though Severus truthfully didn't understand the purpose of him being so carefully scrutinised, he decided to obey Miss Parkinson's commands, assuming that she knew what she was doing.

"Hmm, something is missing," Pansy remarked thoughtfully, eyeing the wizard.

"The professor needs a tie because as it is, his appearance is way too casual," decided Draco. "Now, mine is too fashion forward for this particular ensemble," continued Draco, "Theo, give me your tie."

Without a word of protest, Theo untied his conservative grey pinstriped tie and gave it to Draco. After fixing Severus' collar, the young wizard took a few steps back and sighed with satisfaction. "Yes, excellent...what do you say, Pans?"

Pansy, though, still wasn't fully satisfied with Severus' attire. "Nope, something is still missing. Oh, I know! Draco, give the professor your belt. His is just horrendous." Not waiting for Draco to comply, she impatiently carried on with removing it by herself.

"Hey, easy, it's Armani, by the way," grunted Draco, fruitlessly trying to remove her hands from him.

"I know it is. That's the point," smiled the busy witch with Draco's belt already in her quick fingers.

Only when Pansy-on-a-mission tried to undo Severus' belt, did the wizard finally come around and protest, "I can do it perfectly well myself, Miss Parkinson. Moreover, I don't comprehend what all these herculean efforts are for. Why should my look matter for Harry bloody Potter?"

"Ah, Professor, you never know, the witch might be there," explained Blaise. "So it always pays to look your best."

Severus sighed and exchanged his belt for Draco's. "Well?" he asked, obviously annoyed.

All four Slytherins observed him carefully and nodded. "Not perfect, but it will do," Pansy summed up. Then they guided Severus to the back alley behind the restaurant. From there the still-irritated, yet hopeful, wizard Apparated to Grimmauld Place.

A bit later, Severus knocked on Harry Potter's door. The dishevelled, green-eyed wizard opened the door instantly. He invited Severus inside, and they settled in the living room.

"What is it, Professor? What has happened?" asked Harry, clearly concerned.

"Nothing has happened, Potter," answered Severus, keeping his face blank. He categorically wasn't ready to discuss his private life again today, especially with Potter. "I wonder if you by any chance know where Miss Granger is?"

"No, I don't," replied the young wizard with suspicious alacrity and stood up. "Why?" he asked after a minute, not quite making eye contact with Severus.

Severus narrowed his eyes, watching the boy carefully. It was clear that Potter knew where Hermione was. A sudden wave of tiredness engulfed the wizard. He felt that he was just wasting his time for naught. The boy wasn't going to say anything, and Severus, on the other hand, wasn't going to use Legilimency on him. The war was over and so were its methods. It was senseless to hope that Harry-sodding-Potter would help him. With these thoughts in mind, Severus chose to cut their conversation short. "I have in my possession something that belongs to Miss Granger, Potter. I simply would like to be polite and return it in a timely manner. I would really appreciate that if, by any chance, you see Miss Granger, you let her know that I am looking for her. Goodbye." With these words, Severus gave Harry a curt nod and, without further ado, Apparated home.

Once at home...disappointed, tired, and unsatisfied with himself and everybody around him...Severus took Black to the park for a second time. They walked slowly alongside their usual path. The wizard was contemplating his next move. Maybe Minerva, a new idea flashed in his head. Oh yes, Minerva beyond doubt should know at least something.

The wizard rushed toward home, hopeful all over again. He urgently needed to write a letter to Minerva. However, the moment he and Black turned around the corner and saw the house, they both knew straight away that there would be no more letters. There, on his doorstep sat his witch, his Miss Granger, his Hermione.

It looks as if Miss Parkinson was right again. It was Potter, after all, thought Severus, briskly walking toward the witch. "Hermione," he called. She turned to him and smiled.

*Eminem/Cinderella Man

** Robert Burns/To a Mouse