He didn’t really want to hurt any one, especially if it would hurt Hermione... but he wanted to kill Ron so badly, for what he’s doing to Hermione, blinding her to the one man who loves her more than anyone else could... For the next four days, these thoughts plagued him worse than ever, tortured him, followed him everywhere until...
It was Friday evening. Hermione was due in two minutes... it was 6:58“ 6:59 now... tick-tock, tick-tock... he felt the pulse of the clock running through his body... tick-tock, tick-tock... 7:00, she should be here by now... 7:00:10, there was a knock at the door. “Come in,” said Snape, hoping against hope it was her. But did he look all right? Would she notice how he had washed his hair carefully that morning, had combed and flattened it smooth. But he had to sound cold, as usual. “Ms. Granger, you’re late.”
“How is that? It’s 7:00.” Oh, that voice! To listen to her voice was heaven. He swallowed and regained his control. “You are ten seconds late, Ms. Granger.” he said in his most controlled voice. “I shall have to deduct 50 points for being late to a detention.” Idiot! he thought to himself. Why did you say that?
It just slipped out! He argued with himself. Hermione’s mouth dropped open in indignation (marring such a beautiful face).
She dropped her bag and planted herself in front of him. “Well excuse me! I’m sorry I was ten seconds late! I’m sorry I couldn’t have been in your presence ten seconds earlier! I’m sorry I spent ten more seconds with my BOYFRIEND!”
At this last statement, her eyes widened and she clapped her hands over her mouth. Snape’s breath caught in his thought. His eyes started watering. “You... you don’t love me?” he whispered softly.
“Of course I don’t! I hate you!” His face fell. Thoughts ran through his head. Those thoughts. I hate her. Of course I don’t. I love her. I hate him. I’ll bet it’s that Weasley boy. I’ll kill him! It’s his fault. He is the one who asked her out. It’s not his fault. It’s mine for not attracting her attention earlier. I hate myself.
It’s all my fault.
The last sentence reverberated in his head over and over as he sat, catatonic, in his chair. He watched Hermione breathe hard. She finally quieted down, picked up her bag, and said softly to him, "Goodbye, Professor Snape.” Something clicked inside of him. He raised his was, mumbled something, pointed it at the door, and the door clicked shut. Hermione spun around, her eyes flashing. “What’s the mean“ “ he cut her off by pulling her abruptly to him and kissing her passionately. She pulled away. Her eyes were still flashing, but this time softer, with more confusion in them than anything.
“ Wha“ ” she started. He put a finger to her lips, and, breathing heavily, reached into his robes.
He pulled out a vial of black liquid, and uncorked it. He looked at her with sad eyes, said “Goodbye, my sweet. I love you,” and drank down the poison. He slumped to the floor, a burning sensation coursing through him. He looked up at Hermione’s beautiful face for the last time, smiled, and then there was peace.
~Finé~