When I Kissed the Teacher

By. Delirious

ONE

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MARCH 17: PATROLLING

The corridors were dark at that time of night, and Hermione never much liked the feeling she got when she was walking alone. It was strange, not knowing what was just beyond that next corner, and Hermione never got used to the feeling.

But, it was her job to patrol the hallways, and Hermione would do her job with the diligence that she was famed for. But, why was she forced to patrol the dungeons? She would have to remember to never play cards with Harry Potter ever again. It was surprising; he knew more about them than she did. Then again, Hermione was never really into playing cards, she found them to be a rather large waste of time. She could have read two books in the time it took to play that simple game!

A loud thumping noise darted to Hermione's ears as she walked around the dungeons. She pulled out her wand, and ran toward the disturbance. She found herself in the company of an idiotic third year Slytherin who was trying tothrow pebbles at a defenseless painting. Hermione grabbed him by his collar, and dragged him down the hallway, reluctantly taking him to Professor Snape's classroom.

Hermione would have liked to deal with the rule breaker on her own, but Snape had frightened her to the point that she would not dare to do such a thing. He apparently did not like having any Gryffindors disciplining his house, and had told them to bring the troublemaker directly to him, and he would deal with them accordingly. Hermione translated Snape's words; the Slytherins would go free of their punishment. It was not fair, but to defy Snape was to defy law. Hermione could never do that.

Hermione reached Snape's open classroom, and shoved the third year into the room. She looked around, but did not see Snape in sight. "Professor Snape! Professor Snape!" Hermione called. For a few tense moments, both Hermione and the third year waited in anticipation for the familiar swish of the Potion Master's robes. When the sound never came, Hermione retightened her grip on the boy's collar and glared down at him.

"Well, I suppose I will just have to take you to McGonagall." The smirk that had been on his face immediately fell away, leaving a picture of sheer horror. Hermione bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing out loud. He wasn't so smug now…

Hermione began to drag the boy along, when she heard the strong vibration in the air that was Snape's voice, "That won't be necessary Miss Granger. I will deal with the boy. Go back to your post." Hermione clenched her teeth as she unclenched her hold on the third year. She glanced up at the Potion Master as she strode out of the room, and could not help but see the look of triumph on his face.

"Disgusting old bat." Hermione mumbled to herself as she walked away.

"Not nearly as disgusting as you, Mud blood." The familiar sneer of Draco Malfoy's voice slid into her ears.

"Leave me alone, you miserable little Ferret!" Hermione snapped back, without even looking his way.

"I don't think I will…" He began as started to circle her, before standing right in front of her face, giving her barely enough room to breathe. Hermione tried to shove him away, but he grabbed her arms with a death like grip, and pulled her to his face, before his smirk suddenly changed to a look of disgust.

Malfoy forcefully pushed her away, letting her fall on her backside, "Then again, I do not want to be in the company of your foul stench, you dirty little creature." Malfoy laughed uncontrollably at his own comment, as he pushed her as she tried to stand. Hermione looked up, and saw a horrifying sight, behind Draco's shoulder there stood the enigmatic Potions Master, watching the entire spectacle.

Hermione wanted to scream; she was accustomed to Snape not listening to hearsay, but to see with his own eyes the abuse of one of his students and not do anything was unethical and unmoral! What sort of human being was he? How could he watch suffering and completely disregard it? What type of man was Snape?

Hermione and Snape locked eyes for a moment, before he broke the contact by slamming the doors to his classroom closed. Hermione made a fist, and stalked off, trying her best to ignore the liquid sound of Malfoy's laughter, which followed her all the way to her room.

Hermione shock off the encounter with Malfoy, as they were common, but there was one thing she could not let go off: What type of man was the Snape?

It was really a very simple question, and it was one that most could answer quite simply, and without giving any thought to it. Hermione was also guilty of that, up until that very moment when she realized that she in fact did not have answer to that question which was truly in depth and realistic. Hermione liked to believe that she was an informed human being, and knowing that she was not informed on the particulars of Professor Snape (no matter how disgusting those particulars may have been), irked her very spirit.

Hermione found that she soon could not even close her eyes, without thinking that she in fact was not the most informed person at Hogwarts. How could she be an informed person, if she did not know the particulars of one Severus Snape, never mind the fact that she knew very little of her other teachers; they just were not nearly as mind stumping as Snape….

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The next morning seemed brighter for Hermione, somehow. She woke much earlier than usual, and found that even the morning sun was not up before her. Hermione did her morning ritual mechanically, and with very little thought. She did a double-checking of her work assignments for any weakness or gaps, and found very few. Hermione was quite pleased with herself.

She bounded out of the Gryffindor house with a slight smile and felt as if the day would be a good one, when she slammed into something that was not only hard, but also unrelenting. Hermione gathered herself without waiting for who ever bumped into her to assist her; she did not need anyone's help. Hermione brushed off her clothes and waited for the apology she knew was coming. When it did not come, Hermione looked up ready to rid the world of another rude cad. Her mouth was set with a speech on manners already planned, when she suddenly stopped all motion. Ron was standing in front of her.

Hermione balled up her fists, so tightly that there was no doubt that blood was creeping out of the entryways that her fingernails had made. She fought the normal female response to such a sight and resisted the natural instinct to cry. Knowing fully well that she had to respond in someway to the sight of Ron, Hermione chose to be filled with rage, rather than break out into tears. She was not sure how she would channel her anger, but knew that she would somehow.

Hermione quickly began to swivel her head, searching for the demon who put Ron in front of the Gryffindor entrance way. It was so dark in the hall that she could see nothing except the figure of Ron in front of her. Hermione turned around, and faced the sleeping portrait of a large sleeping woman.

"Who did this?" She screamed. The sleeping woman jumped high at the sound of Hermione's voice. The woman looked around confused, until she spotted Hermione below her.

"Good heavens child! What on earth are you talking about?" Hermione only glared at the woman, and pointed towards the figure of Ronald Weasley. The Fat Lady gasped, and put a hand to her delicate mouth.

"What happened?" Hermione's voice was broken with intense emotion; a large contrast to the whisper she was speaking in.

"I honestly do not know," said the Fat Lady.

"Liar!" Hermione shrieked. Hermione put hand over her mouth not believing that she had yelled at the portrait, which had always been kind to her. As sorry as she was, Hermione did not apologize. She turned from the Fat Lady, and went back to the ivory statue of Ron. She stared at it for a few moments, amazed at how much she had forgotten about Ron's face. The statue made Ron look frozen in time, as if he were about to break out into one of his smiles, and it slapped Hermione in the face, knowing that he wouldn't be smiling anytime soon. Although, Hermione was slightly elated that she could see him once again, she was more pained at having to see him again. In her mind, Ron's face had become fuzzy and she could barely remember what he truly looked like. It had been easier to forget his face than to remember it.

Hermione only looked for a moment, before taking her jacket and throwing it over his head. She could not take looking at his frozen face for too long. Hermione did not know what to do and found that her mind was being pulled back into the depression that she had only recently began pulling out of. To see Ron's body without any mental preparation was more than she could handle. She felt more unbalanced knowing that someone- most likely a Slytherin- had broken into the Dark Room and stolen Ron's body only to put it outside the Gryffindor tower. It was almost as if they had robbed Ron's grave and defiled his final resting place. It was disgusting and Hermione wanted to vomit at the thought.

Hermione could not move and yet she did not want to stay. As she stood, her tongue got thicker, and her eyelids got heavier from the extra weight of her tears. She refused to cry, because she was convinced that who had ever done this awful thing was lurking somewhere in the darkness waiting to see the watery jewels fall down her face. But she could not just stand there in the dark,andshe could not leave Ron in the hallway alone. So, Hermione began to drag Ron's statue, determined to take his body back to the Dark Room where it belonged.

Ron was much heavier than Hermione could pull, but she suffered on, because she was determined to do what she had to. She continued on her journey through the school without any disturbance and without meeting even one person in the hallways. Hermione was happy that no one was there to see Ron or her, but she was also terribly angry that she had not run across the culprits yet.

Hermione was near her the Dark Room, when she heard the familiar sound of Professor Snape's robes swishing ominously. "Miss Granger, I do not care what you are doing or why you are doing it, so twenty points." Hermione did not bother to answer, and kept on dragging on Ron towards the Dark Room.

"Miss Granger, in case you did not understand what I was implying, I want you to go back to your house immediately. You are out of area and what are you dragging?" Snape's cold voice slinked up Hermione's spine into her ears. She stopped moving, and turned to Snape.

"Someone left him in the Gryffindor Tower! I have every right to take him back to the Dark Room." She said tightly.

"No you do not Miss Granger." He countered.

"Yes, I do!" Hermione said in a raised tone.

"Go to your room, before I give you a detention."

"NO! I won't leave Ron! He's gone because I left him!" Hermione's eyes were glistening with unshed tears, and still Snape continued to relentlessly attack.

"Ron Weasley is lost, because he is a fool. An idealistic idiot with fantasies of saving the world and becoming a hero. He was given what he wanted and now he must accept the consequences of being a hero."

"That isn't fair! He didn't know!" She began to shout, before lowering her voice to a whisper. " He didn't know that being hero meant giving it all up! And that isn't fair."

"Nothing is fair Miss Granger. If in all the years in my class you have not learned that, then is really no hope for you." Hermione did not answer Snape; because she knew that there was no hope for her, and protesting to the fact wouldn't make either one of them believe her.

"I'm going to take Ron back to the Dark Room." She said after several moments. Hermione did not wait for the Professor to argue, and began to drag Ron once again. She heard muttering in the background, but steadily ignored it, until she suddenly found that Ron's body was gone. Hermione looked back with panicked eyes at the professor, barely noticing the tears rolling down her skin.

"Go back to your room Miss Granger." The Potions Master said evenly, before pushing past her. Hermione stood puzzled for a moment, before sprinting down to the Dark Room. She flung open the Dark Room door only to find that Ron's statue was safely standing within. Hermione couldn't help but smile sadly at the sight. Hermione slowly and gently closed the door back, and leaned against it wondering: What type of man was Snape?

Hermione shook her head, not in the mood to think through that thought again. She slowly headed back to her common room, tired and a little more broken then she had been when she had first woken up. When Hermione was close to the common room door, she saw the messy black hair that could only belong to her remaining best friend, Harry Potter; the boy who was destined to save the world, not little Ronald Weasley of the Burrow.

As soon as he saw her, Harry ran to grab Hermione as she fell into his embrace. Harry did not know what had happened, but he knew that nothing was right and he could only guess that Ron was somehow involved, because nothing had been right since Ron went away. They both knew that something should be said, some type of spoken word should pass between them, even if only to have noise in the air, but…Hermione could not manage to speak or think, and Harry could not get the words out of his mouth, so instead the two friends held on to each other. They both knew that their very existences depended on the other's survival, because they just couldn't take any more death. They held on tightly to each other without fail, as the darkness of the night was gently swept away and the salvation of the morning's son began to light them with his ever-present warmth.

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I don't own Harry Potter and all of the other characters. I got my title from a website called WIKTT (as you probably guessed), and I got some of the ideas from Dawson's Creek (haha). I think I have covered the disclaimer pretty well.

If the Ron thing is confusing, it will be explained in more detail later on. Just hold tight.