Treacherous Love

By: Stephanie Jean Snape

In this story Dumbledore didn't die and the war has not started yet. I own nothing of J.K Rowling. Please enjoy!

Chapter One

The Beginning

The last and final year. Realization had not sunk into her over processed brain yet. This would be her last year at Hogwarts; at least as a student. Her safe haven and the place she felt most at please would soon not be her home anymore. So much had changed since her first year. Hermione was no longer the frumpy and average girl that no one saw but she was still the resident know-it-all in Hogwarts. The summer after sixth year, Hermione started to train for the impending war that would wage. When she was not reading she filled her time with working out, training her body so she would be prepared for whatever she might face. It was all she could do with her time; since the beginning of the summer tragedy after tragedy had occurred and all she could do to get away from the sadness was to keep herself as busy as possible.

Almost all girls in her year used make up like it were going out of style. However, Hermione she had an immense dislike for the stuff. Ginny had persuaded her to use some cover up but that was all the extent that the youngest Weasley's influence could go. In Hermione's own opinion the amount of time taken to make her pretty and perfect was best used studying. Her course load was immense, filled with advanced classes which left her with very little social life and no time for making herself presentable to others. Intelligence was her greatest strength, as was very evident in that she had always been top of her year by a marginal degree the past six years. The youngest Weasley always pushed her to dress more lady-like so she could attract a boy, thus getting married. Hermione knew she was no beauty and that were was a slim chance that she would date let alone get married. Her intelligence could not stop her from not setting her alarm and sleeping in, however.

Running to her class, her legs burned like they never had before. She had been so sure this morning that even though she had slept in she would have enough time to get to the library to grab some books for an assignment and make it to the dungeons in time. Today seemed to be going downhill quickly as she checked her watch to realize that she was already ten minutes late to Potions, of all classes.

Severus sneered as he looked at the pitiful class that was his seventh year outstanding potion students. He let his critical eyes drag over everyone as they brewed. His eyes kept being pulled to her seat as he wondered where his top student was. He could never admit it aloud; it was only reflected in his markings. Suddenly, the door banged open as the girl in question ran into the room, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. His eyes lay upon the large book bag beside her already packed-full school bag; he understood where she had been, of course. Before heading to his chambers he did rounds through much of the school, including the library. Every night she would be sitting at her own personal table, books piled high, absorbing all the knowledge she could. The same rounds were taken in the morning, and she would already be there, her nose in a book again.

"You're late," he sneered as she sat down, pulling out her books in a hurry. Silence filled the room as all eyes were on the two of them. He watched as her eyes grew wide and pride filled him that even after nearly two decades of teaching he could inspire fear in the bravest of them.

"Sorry, sir," she whispered, her head bowed, waiting for her punishment. At least she had gotten all the books she would need. His detentions always ran late, meaning no library for her tonight. Knowing Snape and his cruelty, her nightly run would have to be cancelled as well. His glare pieced right through her. He would always be the one person that could instill fear inside of her with just one look. His critical eye studied her. She knew he secluded her from the rest of the students; every year she never had a partner and her brewing was critically remarked upon, even her essays. It seemed he used bottle after bottle of red ink on her work, even going as far as to adding an extra page of comments. His cruel words never made it to her papers, but were actually very useful, with several hints and suggestions of books that would have more information. It was hard to understand how a man that was so rude and cruel in person could be somewhat kind in his marking.

"That will be twenty points and detention for your constant need to obtain information even if it means missing part of my class," he stated. "Tonight at six. If you are late again I will make it another fifty points, and two more detentions."

"Yes, sir." Hermione broke eye contact with him. She could stare death in the face, but Snape was not a man that you defied. Even if he chose to embarrass her, she would put up no fight against his verbal onslaught. She would continue to admire him as she always did, regardless of any embarrassment or awkwardness his comments would cause.*

*reason for that change was that you've already said he inspires fear in her. It's either she fears him or she's submissive to him, so I just changed it. If she fears him, she fears him...and submission can be added into the story later. Sorry, it was just an awkward change.

"Directions are on the board. Ingredients in the storage room. I also expect two feet on the potion, its basic uses, and description of every ingredient – as well as their uses," he stated as a round of groans broke through the room. Hermione simply sighed, writing in her planner, which was still alive through all the wear and tear she had put it through.

"Thanks, Hermione, way to ruin our night," Ron groaned as everyone glared at her.

*Severus watched as a blush rose and covered her face. He knew she would have no problem producing a quite credible paper; her chosen friends were another story in itself.

He had never understood her choice in friends. There was no denying that she was most likely the smartest witch to ever walk these halls, yet her social skills were something she never flourished at. The two dunderheads' need to keep her as their friend had left her unmoved in the socially awkward level since she had come to Hogwarts. She had no other friends besides Potter and the two Weasley's. It seemed that not only did the boys monopolize her friend pool; they stopped any and all chance of dating for the young girl. The youngest Weasley was attractive to boys, and seemed to date every eligible young man. It was as if she stole every boy's glance, leaving nothing for Hermione. Even Krum had been chased away from her. She was socially awkward in every sense, and until her friends relinquished some control she would continue to be so.

"Silence. To work, and don't forget the Figgle wings," Severus snarled. Everyone quieted, but the glares to Hermione continued as she began the task of setting up her cauldron and retrieving her ingredients. He sat at his desk, watching as she copied the board into her large book of notes.

Hermione diverted her attention to her potion once her notes were complete. Ever since starting Potions, she had added every potion Snape taught her into her book, often having to magically increase the size to add even more notes and papers.

Content that everyone was finally working on their potions, he took up marking the many papers he assigned to his students. After so many years of assigning paper after paper it became a useless mean, as barely any student was an exceptional writer and researcher. Sadly, most of his students put hardly any effort into the essays they were assigned. They gave the bare bones of information that was requested, except one. His eyes could not be persuaded to stop taking glances at her, though. Her hair was in a tight bun as she expertly stirred her potion, adding ingredients at certain specific times. She was a very talented witch. He pushed her so much because she had talent, immense talent, and he hoped she would use that and become a Master in Potions. Every mistake she, made he criticized her; even her essays, though long and filled with information, could use much more.

She was indeed a diamond in the rough. Severus knew he could never obtain such purity with his past. He had never had a relationship; only the whores in Knockturn Alley and the many death eater women that flung themselves at him for use of his tool. He had much respect for a woman who respected herself, remaining chaste and pure for so long. Innocence was a rare find in these times, most girls had had their first tussle in the bed sheets by the time they were sixteen, if not sooner. How things used to be so different when he had gone to school; letting his eyes roam across the room, it was most likely that she was the last pure seventh year. Whenever he happened upon her she always looked so lost and alone. He understood what she went through; his entire childhood, his intelligence secluded him and soon it became everything that he had. Suddenly, his eyes became alert as he saw Longbottom lean towards her whispering to her.

"Hermione, I need your help," Neville pleaded. Hermione looked at his potion. It was abysmal, of course. How he had made it into advanced potions was beyond her. The potion was supposed to be a dark green, and his was a light blue. She knew instantly that he had forgot to put in the Figgle wings, but with one look at Snape, she knew he was watching, and she couldn't afford to spend another night in detention.

"I'm sorry Neville... I can't. I have so many assignments to do. I can't be stuck in detention again, and you know him - he always knows when I help you," Hermione whispered, watching Neville's face fall. She frowned and turned back to her potion. Everyone knew she hated being interrupted while brewing, but she felt so bad for Neville; he was the brunt of Snape's torment. Hermione knew the reason why Neville did so badly on his potions; he spent all of his time on Herbology and not enough on any other subject. She loved her friends, but the thought of spending another night in detention made her cringe. All the extra assignments she got from her teachers to make her working portfolio look amazing left little time for relaxation, let alone detention. Early on, she had set a standard of what would always be expected of her, making each assignment longer and harder for her to fill with information.

Returning to her potion, it was not long before she felt the shadow fall over her and his breath beside her as he looked at her potion. She knew instantly he would make a comment of how to improve her potion, but his tone and way of saying it made it seem rude and condescending. And still she would write it down in her textbook for future reference.

"Crush the Getty nut more before adding it," he stated, standing erect before leaving her to make notes in her textbook.

Coming to his worst student, all he could do was sneer. He had seen the two whispering, and thought for sure that she was helping him and he was just slow to put the ingredients in to change the potion back to its proper color. Stupid boy, always forgetting his Figgle wings time and time again; never had he met a student that ruined more cauldrons.

"What is this?" he sneered as the chubby boy peered up at him, fright in his eyes. "Did you forget Figgle wings, which I clearly stated to the class not to forget?" He watched the boy nod in shame as the room once again went silent. Sometimes he really hated his job; he had clear and simple instructions. All you had to do was read the board; yet that simple task seemed so hard for some. Such simple potions could be made satisfactory just by following the directions; it took a skilled potioneer who understood the relationships between ingredients and their uses to make an exceptional potion.

"Don't tell me the amazing Ms. Granger didn't tell you what to put in to change the potion and correct it like she always does." He peered between the two. Neville shook his head but somehow he didn't believe it like the Granger girl to not help one of her friends. His robes billowed around him as he stood behind Granger to look at her once again perfect potion boiling away almost complete.

"Did you help him?" he asked as she shook her head. He snorted. "Somehow I don't believe you, little miss know-it-all, missing the chance to show what she is made of."

"I swear I didn't, sir," Hermione stated as she sat there watching him with her big brown eyes. A part of his heart lurched for her, but he quickly placed it aside to punish her.

"Because of your constant need to show off, that will be a two foot essay on what went wrong with Longbottom's potion, what would go wrong if used. And just because I am feeling extra giving to everyone because of your foolish mistake, another two foot essay due the day after tomorrow on the Veritaserum potion that we will be starting soon." He watched everyone glare at the two. He smirked. That ought to knock her down a peg or two. He instantly regretted it, though, as she frowned, bowing her head in defeat.

"Get back to work. Longbottom, bottle some of your potion and give it to Ms. Granger for her assignment; you will be serving detention tonight with Filch," he added as he stalked* to his desk and sat down. Ah, finally things were as they should be.

He watched as Longbottom carefully bottled some of his potion and gave it to Hermione, who quickly grabbed it and put it in her bag after labeling it. She kept her head down, not looking at everyone as they glared at her. A constant frown was plastered to her face as she finished her well-made potion. Finished, she bottled her potion, labeling it before walking up to his desk. The student who annoyed him the most, Malfoy, finished as well and seemed to be jogging to get to his desk before the Granger girl. Before the girl could even reach out her hand to place the potion on his desk, Malfoy shoved her hard. She fell to the ground, her potion cracking against the cement and turning black.

"Watch where you're going, Mudblood," the boy drawled as he looked at his teacher with a smirk. Oh how he hated the self-righteous, ignorant boy. But his father had influence, and he didn't feel like being tortured at the next death eater meeting because he told off his son.

"Get off the ground and watch where you are going," Severus said. She looked at him with tears in her eyes as she picked herself up. "Bottle another vial and try not to be so clumsy." He saw her look back at him with hate-filled eyes*. She quickly went to her desk, filled a vial and handed it back into him before swiftly turning and cleaning her desk.

Hermione could not believe the nerve of that man to watch Malfoy purposely push her, and then accuse her of clumsiness. Anger filled her quickly but soon dissipated because she knew it was an unwinnable battle with him. Instead, she finished her potion and cleaned her station so she could use the rest of class to start on her essays. It would be a long night and there would most likely be more assignments from her Transfiguration, Herbology and Charms classes that she had yet to go to. Sighing, she brought out her books and her paper and tuned out everything around her till the end of class. Today had gone downhill quickly, but she was used to challenges, and thrived in proving people wrong.

When the bell rang, her friends did not even wait for her to catch up to them. The seemed to speed down the hall and to their next class, not even sitting by her. Hermione sometimes wished she could just let loose and snap on them and let all the anger out that she had been holding for almost seven years. But she was too nice for that, and too socially awkward to give someone a piece of her mind.

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My new Beta is going through this story and hopefully with some push I will be pumping out more chapters. Thanks to everyone who alerted and reviewed to give me your opinion.

Thanks

Read, Review, Enjoy

Stephanie Jean Snape