I'm sorry that it has been forever, but I hope this makes up for it. I was my favorite to write.
Many thanks to Ashley for being my beta!
I don't own these characters, I'm just playing with them.
~
Severus wanted no more then to kick himself . . . hard. He knew that his life was royally messed up, and the damage that was done would be very hard to fix; he couldn't help but curse himself for leaving her alone in that classroom.
At the time it was a perfect plan: He wouldn't say a thing to her, not even see her off. Then, she would realize that they were never meant to be and meet someone new. He thought it would be better that way.
Was he ever wrong -- he was even more inept at fortune telling than Trelawney herself.
"Hermione is a bright young woman, she deserves better, much better than me," he harshly thought to himself. As his feet took him the familiar path to his office, he sighed; the last thing he wanted to do was hold her back, and he knew that's exactly what he would be doing if he allowed himself to get too close to her.
Peeves the Poltergeist bobbed happily above him, then suddenly stopped in front of him. "Why, hello, Professor Snapey-Wapey!" he said mockingly.
"What is it Peeves?" he asked hotly. Peeves was the one person -- er,
ghost -- in the castle Snape hated the most.
"I saw Miss Know-It-All in the castle today! Why is that?" Peeves asked
innocently.
"Maybe it's because your eyesight is particularly good for your age," Snape offered rudely.
"Don't try to be cute, Snape-e-poo, it doesn't work, especially with you,"
Peeves said before he blew a giant raspberry and floated off. Snape cursed him silently.
Severus got back to his original train of thought: Hermione. The day
Hermione left, he had been heartbroken. He sat in his office for several
hours before Albus came down to check on him and gave him a few words of support. He didn't believe them for a second.
"She will return, Severus," the elderly wizard had reassured.
"I doubt it, Headmaster. I seriously doubt it," Severus had replied numbly. Albus had given him an encouraging pat on the back and left him to his thoughts.
He remembered the many times he had sat at his desk, a quill in his hand, and attempted to write her. He never had any success. However, he had managed to get halfway to the owlery before turning around and ripping up the parchment. He always told himself that he wasn't good enough for her. She was at university, where there were bound to be numerous eligible young men. She would find someone new, and, therefore, forget all about Severus, or so he thought. He sighed and started to walk a little faster.
When he reached his destination, he closed the big oak door and locked it with a spell. He retired to his large armchair and picked up his book on Shakespearean sonnets. He usually wasn't the type to read poetry but Shakespeare made him feel better -- because it had always made her feel better. He read aloud in the empty room: "Let me not to the marriage of true minds/Admit impediments; love is not love/Which alters when it alteration finds,/Or bends with the remover to remove./O no, it is an ever-fixed mark."
"Don't I know it?" he mumbled sadly to himself.
-------------------------------------------------
Hermione didn't feel like seeing Professor McGonagall anymore. Instead, she silently walked to the entrance and left the castle feeling very confused. Her feelings had not changed at all. She still melted when she saw him, and feared nothing could change that. Hermione was a strong believer that each person had only one other in this world destined for them, and when you find that person, you'll know that you could spend the rest of your life with them.
She walked into the town of Hogsmeade, not wanting to go home straight away; she couldn't face her parents now. She stopped at the Three Broomsticks for a butterbeer. Madam Rosemerta -- who was wearing her usual outfit of skirts and homemade tops, her hair up in anyway it would go -- waited on her. When she realized who it was, Hermione thought her head would explode.
"Hermione, dear how are you?" she asked in that airy voice that sounded almost as though she could be a divination professor. Rosemerta was never one of Hermione's favorites, but she did find her voice interesting.
Hermione had a thing for voices. While other women fawned over eyes or hair, Hermione loved voices and the special qualities someone's voice had. That's probably why she had been attracted to Severus in the first place. The first time she heard him talk she was blown away. His voice was ungodly quiet -- barely above a whisper -- with the perfect fit between a British and Welsh accent. Hermione had always found it soothing (except when he would yell). Hermione suddenly snapped back to reality.
"I'm just fine. How are you?" Hermione replied politely.
"Couldn't be better, business is booming," she said flamboyantly.
"That's great; I'll have a butterbeer please, to go," she said on second
thought.
Rosemerta brought it to her in a little more then a minute. Hermione paid, thanked her and left. She was not about to deal with that woman when her day had just turned out so, well, she didn't know how to describe it.
She walked the cobblestone streets of Hogsmeade, smiling at all the memories it brought back. She inadvertently ended up near the Shrieking Shack, and sat down next to the fence around it. She couldn't help but think about the night when she, Ron and Harry had set Sirius Black free.
And now he was gone . . . Hermione remembered Harry's attitude that summer holiday. It was a mix of anger, depression, and sadness. The many times Hermione had sat up with him while he told her how he was feeling, and what had been going on in his life. Harry knew Ron wasn't good with emotions; that was Hermione's territory. She was also delegated that responsibility with Ron and Remus. Hermione was surprised how much Remus would tell her, but she loved every minute of it. Remus Lupin had always been a sort of mentor to Hermione, and she admired him greatly. They would talk for hours at a time about anything and everything.
It was the times like that she missed terribly. Her days at Hogwarts were filled with many adventures and she met them (for the most part) head on. In her first year, she realized friends were more important then books; without her friends, she would have been -- and would be -- lost.
Sitting there reflecting on old memories, she also thought about all she had lost in her past: Sirius, Severus and so many more little things that
somehow just didn't matter at the time, but now matter greatly.
She sighed and thought about Severus. He told Professor Dumbledore that I'd be great at the position. He must still care! Wait what I am I saying? I know he still cares! But somehow it's not as easy as that.
Hermione's parents were very traditional people; Hermione doubted they would approve of a man in his late-thirties when she herself was barely twenty. That was always the thing that Hermione feared, but now it did not seem important, especially since Severus was behaving like a five-year-old.
She reflected on one of her favorite poems:
-love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove.
O no, it is an ever-fixed mark
"Don't I know it?" she asked herself hopelessly. "Maybe accepting the job was a stupid idea. I'll have to ask Remus about it." She continued as she stared at the old shack as it swayed silently in the June breeze.